Sun and Shadow
by Arsahi
Summary: Post-Gone/Dad xover fic. Spike does a little heart searching, for lack of a better term. Parts 12 - 15 uploaded.
1. Prologue: I Left My Heart In Sunnydale

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Sunnydale I  
**Part**: Prologue -- I Left My Heart In Sunnydale  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated a shallow PG.  
**Pairings**: Ugh! Too many to name!  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ I Left My Heart In Sunnydale ~*~  
  
    He prowled the yard in front of her window restlessly, growling every once in a while as he looked up at the window. The light cascaded her silhouette onto the curtains, and he watched as she brushed her hair. Suddenly, her shadow froze, then grew large as she neared the window. The curtains flung open to reveal Buffy in a blue terry cloth robe. She narrowed her hazel at him, pushing her short blond hair from her face. "What are you doing?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice low.  
    He narrowed his eyes back at her. "Are we going anywhere, Summers?"  
    "_We_ is nonexistant. There is no _we_," she told him harshly.  
    Spike threw his hands up. "Fine. Tell Li'l--" he shook his head. "Tell Dawn I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye."  
    Buffy frowned. "Spike?" she watched him walk away. "Spike?! Where are you going?"  
    "Out of your life, baby. You don't want me here? I'm gone!"  
  
    The next morning, Buffy sat in the Magic Box with Willow, Xander, and Anya. There was a hollow feeling in her chest, reminding her of when Angel and Riley left. Willow noticed the haunted look on Buffy's face. "Buffy?"  
    Buffy snapped out of it. "Huh?"  
    "Something wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Everything all right with Dawn?"  
    "Everything's fine," Buffy lied distractedly. "Have--no, never mind. I'll be back in a few minutes."  
    She left the Magic Box. She was going to go see if Spike had made good on his promise or if he was bluffing. If he had been bluffing, she was going to kick his peroxide blond ass back to 1880. Then she'd stake him, "good and proper". Well, maybe not the stake part. But she would kick his ass for sure.  
  
    When she arrived at the crypt, she found it devoid of life, even vampiric life. Spike had actually left. He left her...which was what she had been afraid of from the start. Afraid he's leave her, like Angel. Just like Riley. Just like everyone she cared about.  
    The only one who understood her was gone. Gone as in left-town gone.  
    She was alone.


	2. L.A. I: 1/Connor's New Babysitter

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles I  
**Part**: One -- Connor's New Baby-Sitter  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated PG-13.  
**Pairings**: Ugh! Too many to name!  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Connor's New Baby-Sitter ~*~  
  
    Angel held Connor in his arms. It figured that the Powers That Be would give him a colicky son. A colicky human son nonetheless, that wouldn't stop crying until he pulled out his game-face. Angel had even tried that that evening, but it hadn't worked. Not that night. Then he had let Cordelia try her hand at calming Connor, to no avail. Wesley had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the squalling infant, and Gunn made himself scarce, not wanting baby-duty. Fred had tried to calm the baby down, but had failed miserably, just like Angel and Cordelia had.  
    It was now nearing three a.m.  
    Angel was _hungry_.  
    He paced the lobby of the Hyperion, Connor still in his arms. He had tried singing to him. He tried changing Connor's diaper. He tried everything he could think of, and then even some of Lorne's suggestions. It amounted to absolutely nothing. His efforts proved useless to the extreme.  
    The front door slammed open, scaring Angel nearly to his second death. Then he looked at his visitor and stared in shock at him. "You."  
    "Why is it that everyone greets me tha' way?" Spike asked, letting himself in and dropping a black duffel bag on the rug near the door.  
    "You're just so awe-inspiring," Angel replied dryly. Connor just wailed.  
    "Bloody hell...gone to baby-sittin' now, Peaches?" Spike smirked, walking over and looking at Angel and Connor.  
    "He's my son, Spike," Angel glared at Spike, trying to force the territorial demon down.  
    Spike arched an eyebrow and laughed. "What, did you knock up tha' Cordelia bint?"  
    "No," Angel's glare intesified and he let his game face show, no longer wanting to keep the demon leashed.  
    "Then who'd you knock up, poofter? And how?" Spike inquired, the last question being an honest inquiry.  
    "Darla. And I don't know how. If I knew how..." Angel started, sliding back into his human visage. "It was part of some prophecy. All I know is that he is my son. And I will protect him."  
    "Can I see the li'l tyke?" Spike asked quietly, curiously, sincerely wanting to see the baby.  
    Angel sighed. "Might as well. Maybe you can make him stop crying." He handed Connor over to Spike carefully, knowing Spike couldn't hurt his child. It helped staying in touch with Willow over the years. Otherwise he never would've known about the chip.  
    Spike took Connor with the gentlest of hands. Angel watched his grand-childe curiously, having never witnessed the tender side of Spike before. Or, hadn't cared to look for it. After all, last time he associated with Spike he was Angelus, and before that Spike wanted to kill the Slayer, his girlfriend.  
    "Hey there, kiddo," Spike said softly. Amazingly, Connor stopped crying. "Guess you're my my uncle now? Drusilla's brother, hm?"  
    Angel chuckled lightly before he realized the noise escaped from his lips. Spike didn't seem to notice.  
    "Angel?" Spike asked quietly, sitting down on the sofa.  
    "Yeah, Spike?" Angel answered, sitting next to his childe's childe.  
    " I need somewhere to stay," Spike informed him suggestively.  
    _You're going to regret saying this some day,_ Angel's mind told him. But Spike looked so vulnerable it pulled at Angel's long-dead heart. "You can stay here."  
    Spike looked at Angel, set the baby in his lap (holding him with one hand), and clapped Angel on the back. "Thanks, mate. Owe you one. Guess you aren't such a wanker after all."  
    "No," Angel shook his head. "You don't--"  
    "I don't take charity," Spike informed his grand-sire. "Unless it's in the form of a Happy Meal with legs."  
    Angel shook his head again. "Right. I should have remembered that. Let's get you set up then."  
    Angel reached for Connot, but Spike said, "Go on ahead. I'll stay here with the Li'l Tyke."  
    Angel half-smiled and picked up Spike's bag. He was nearly to Spike's room when he heard Cordelia yell, "_Get away from Connor_!" followed by the soft _thwap_ of a crossbow being released.  
    And Connor began to cry.  
    Again.  
    He sighed and tossed Spike's bag into the room, jogging back down the stairs to find Cordelia with another arrow trained on Spike. One arrow already stuck out of Spike's left arm already. "Cordy, leave him alone..."  
    Spike, by that time, had managed to calm Connor back down and yank the arrow from his arm, hissing in pain. "Cor, pet. Tha' was very unnecessary. Was jus' sittin' here, babysittin' the Li'l Tyke--"  
    "'Tyke'?" Cordelia repeated disbelievingly, arching an eyebrow. "Oh, I can just see it now...you'll be 'Uncle Spike'..."  
    Lorne and Fred chose that moment to enter the room. Fred, in her haste, threw holy water at Spike and Lorne ducked behind Fred. Spike had to jerk to avoid being scorched, upsetting Connor in the process...again.  
    Angel's patience began to wear thin. It had already been very close to snapping because of Connor's incessant squalling, and it didn't help that everyone was trying to kill his grand-childe, who had done a complete 180 on him. "Fred, Lorne, this is Spike. As you've already guessed, somehow. Spike, that's Winifred Burkle, call her 'Fred'. And the green guy standing behind her is Krevlornswoth of the Deathwok Clan. Call him Lorne. And you know Cordelia Chase, and Cordy you know Spike. Where are Wesley and Gunn?"  
    "I'll go get them," Fred scurried from the room.  
    Cordelia walked over to Angel. "What's gotten into yu? You're going to trust _him_? Are you out of your _mind_?" Suddenly, she pulled away from him. "You're not Angelus, are you? 'Cause, hey, don't feel like killing you today. Don't wanna get the dust on my new shoes."  
    "No," Angel rubbed his forehead, swearing he could feel a headache developing between his eyes. "But I'm going to snap soon if everyone doesn't stop pulling at me..."  
    Cordelia mustered up a sympathetic smile. "Leave it to Cordy."  
    Angel's head snapped up, his broody brown eyes wide. He looked...panicked...no, terrified. "I've got it. That's okay, Cordy."  
    Cordelia laughed at him. Fred chose that moment to enter the room with Wesley and Gunn. Angel cleared his throat. "Spike, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Wesley, Spike. Spike, Charles Gunn. Gunn, Spike. Spike won't hurt any of us and can't, on account of the chip in his head. Except for me, I think. If he tries anything, I'll deal with him. Okay? Okay."  
    Angel left, into the kitchen, and minutes later they heard the microwave ding. He came back into the room with a mug of blood for Spike, gave it to him, and left again.  
    "Peaches has a rod up his bloody arse," Spike snickered. Then he looked down at Connor. "Your daddy's a stiff. Always has his knickers in a twist."  
    "Don't tell him that," Cordelia grumbled.  
    "Oh, sod off, Queen C," Spike retorted. He looked to Connor. "If that's your surrogate mum, I feel sorry for you."  
    Spike took a sip of the blood from his mug and Connor reached for it, whining. Spike dipped his pinky lightly into the red liquid. "Connor wanna explore his vampiric roots?" Spike stuck his finger to Connor's mouth.  
    "_Spike_!" Fred cried.  
    Connor sucked on Spike's finger and whined when there was no more blood to be lapped off. Spike repeated the process he'd developed and gave Connor more of his blood.  
    Cordelia glared. "That's _Angel's_ son."  
    Angel walked in, looking slightly miffed. "What's going on?"  
    "_He_," Cordelia pointed an accusing finger at the blond vampire, "just fed your _son_ blood."  
    "Does he like it?" Angel asked Spike.  
    "Loves it," he answered while feeding a little more to Connor.  
    "Fun," Angel commented dryly.  
    Spike took a long swig from the mug. Connor fell asleep on Spike's lap after that, smiling contently. He picked the child up and followed Angel up to the room father and son shared.  
    "Night, Tyke."  
    And Spike did something Angel thought he'd never see--Spike kissed his son on the forehead after laying him down in the crib.  
    "Night, Peaches. I'll find my room on my own."  
  
It wasn't until five in the evening before Spike trudged out of his room and down to the stairs, a little disoriented and very shirtless, as Fred soon found out.  
    "Oh! Spike," Fred blinked at him in surprise, a blush momentarily staining her cheeks.  
    "D'you have a shower?" Spike asked groggily and quite gruffly.  
    "Down the hall and around the corner and to the left but the cold water doesn't work very well and the water heater is on the fritz," Fred told him hurriedly. Spike rewarded her with a blank stare. "Um...go ask Angel, I think he can tell you where a working one is."  
    "And I can find his Royal Highness...where?" Spike blinked his eyes back into focussing on Fred. He'd nearly fallen back asleep during her babbling.  
    "Up one more flight of stairs and the fourth room on the right," Fred answered. "I was on my way there but I can wait."  
    Spike hauled Fred up the stairs with him. She led him to Angel's room and knocked on the door quietly. "Angel? You awake?"  
    The door opened to reveal a haggard Angel. He grabbed Spike's arm and gave him a push at the crip. It took Spike a moment to realize Connor was crying.  
    "I'd best get paid for bein' his bloody babysitter," Spike grumbled, picking the child up. "You're just as fussy as your daddy, Li'l Tyke, know that?"  
    "How much to do you charge an hour?" Angel asked seriously, leaning against the door frame.  
    "Five bucks," Spike shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, you let me stay here, feed me, viola--payment. Told you I don't accept charity."  
    Angel nodded. "Very well."  
    "Where's your shower, poofter? I'm feelin' a bit dirty," Spike asked.  
    "Down a flight, down the hall and to the left. Cordy says it doesn't work, but it's water," Angel shrugged his broad shoulders.  
    Spike shook his head and went downstairs with Connor.  
    "Angel?" Fred asked softly.  
    "Yeah, Fred?" he answered, stretching.  
    "Cordy just got a phone call," Fred said cryptically.  
    "That's nice," Angel replied unfeelingly, heading for his bed.  
    "From Buffy."  
    Angel stopped walking and turned to Fred. Whenever there was a call from Buffy, it was usually always bad news. "What about?"  
    "She said Spike was missing and she wanted to know if you knew where he was. Cordy wasn't sure what to say so she asked why and--"  
    "Did she tell Buffy that Spike's here?"  
    "No, don't worry. She beat around the bush and became 'Queen C'. Cordy said it was nice to be Queen C again--"  
    "I'd better call her," Angel sighed, following Fred as she left the room with him and walked down to Cordy's desk. "Cordy? Phone?"  
    Cordelia handed the phone off her desk to him, their fingers brushing. Cordelia quickly went back to typing up an invoice.  
    Angel dialed *69 and waited for someone to answer.  
    :Hello, Magic Box,: Anya said.  
    "Hi Anya. Is Buffy there? This is Angel," he said.  
    :Hold on. Buffy, your ex called back!: Anya called over her shoulder, not bothering to cover the receiver.  
    Angel heard the phone being jostled. :Angel, hi,: Buffy greeted him. :I wasn't expecting you to call me back so quickly.:  
    "Cordy said it was important."  
    :Um...sort of. I...I can't find Spike. Dawn's worried for him.:  
    _And so are you._ "I see."  
    :Do you know where I could find him?:  
    Angel took a moment to run through the possibilities of answering in his mind. He didn't want to readily give up his babysitter..."I don't think he wants to see you, Buffy. If he left..."  
    :I'm sorry I bothered you then. You're right--he left, he doesn't want to see me. He lied to me. If you see him though, steer him Sunnydale's direction so I can take care of him.:  
    "Will do."  
    :Bye.: _Click_.  
    Spike wandered in with Connor. "Hey, mates."  
    "Baby snuggles!" Cordelia cried happily, jumping up and taking the baby from Spike. She coddled him and cooed at him.  
    Spike yawned, despite the fact he didn't need the oxygen. "When are you lot gonna show me the sights?"  
    "How's tonight sound?" Cordelia asked, suddenly changing her tune about Spike.  
    "Sounds good t' me," Spike nodded. "What about the kid?"  
    "I'll stay with him," Angel said.  
    "You won't get to see Los Diablos then," Lorne piped up, having said nothing for the past few minutes.  
    "Los...Diablos?" Spike replied, to the Pylean. "Help me out here, mate, haven't brushed up on my espanol in a while."  
    "The City of Demons. The night life of the City of Angels, Los Angeles."  



	3. L.A. I: 2/For Keeps

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles I  
**Part**: Two -- For Keeps  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated PG-13.  
**Pairings**: Ugh! Too many to name!  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ For Keeps ~*~  
  
    "Have fun, poofter!" Spike called into the empty lobby, the words echoing off of the empty walls. He then followed Fred and Gunn out to the car, where Cordelia, Wesley, and Lorne already sat. "So, where're we off too first? Are there any demon bars here tha' serve vampires? I'm a bi' thirsty, and seein' as to how I can't exac'ly bite my own prey..."  
    The occupants of the car stared at him.  
    "Wha'?" Spike asked defensively.  
    "Let's take him by Caritas," Gunn suggested. "Maybe there's some not-exactly-still-potent blood there."  
    "No'-exac'ly-potent? Are you out of your bloody mind?" Spike scoffed.  
    "Remind me again why we are doing this?" Wesley rubbed his temples.  
    "Because we're gonna have to get used to him either way. Looks like he's going to be staying here awhile," Cordelia answered.  
    "So...uh...Spike," Fred said conversationally. "Where'd you come from?"  
    "Sunnyhell," Spike replied, the same time Cordelia said "Sunnydale".  
    Wesley craned his neck back to look at Spike, who had been wedged between Fred and Lorne. On Fred's right and next to the door was Gunn. Wesley rode shotgun with Cordelia. "Oh? How's Buffy?"  
    A pained, longing expression crossed Spike's features and stayed there. "Alive," he muttered. "Happy for the mos' par'."  
    "What's the deal with Dead Girl? One minute she's dead, the next she's alive, then she commits suicide and now she's back," Cordelia said. "Why doesn't she just stay dead?"  
    Hurt added to the expression on his face. "She didn't wan' t' come back," he told them, digging in his duster for something. He searched it inside out, then searched his pockets. "Bloody _hell_."  
    "What now?" Lorne asked.  
    "Don't suppose I can bum a fag from any of you?" Spike asked. "No, you lot are too goody-goody. Queen C, stop a' the neares' drug store. I need a smoke, bad."  
    Cordelia shook her head and pulled over to the curb. "In there," she motioned. "You better have the money, 'cause no one in this car is paying for your smelly cancer sticks."  
    Spike smirked at her. "So nice."  
    As soon as Spike was in the store, Gunn piped up, "Did anyone see that I'm-so-in-love-with-this-chick-you-just-brought-up-but-I-can't-have-her-and-that's-why-I-came-here look on Spike's face when you mentioned Buffy, English?"  
    "I did," Fred agreed.  
    "Unfortunately, so did I," Wesley nodded.  
    "God! What is it with Buffy and the good-looking vampires?" Cordelia whined.  
    "Jealous much?" Wesley mimicked her speech good-naturedly.  
    "Shut up Wesley," Cordelia shoved him playfully.  
    "Here comes the man of the hour," Lorne announced. Spike launched himself into the car, a bottle of some alcohol in one hand and a box of cigarettes in the other. "Whoa. Really packing down on the bad-for-humans stuff aren't you?"  
    "Sod off, Lizard Boy," Spike told him, a cigarette already dangling from his lips as he sparked it. "Anybody else want one?"  
    "No," they chorused.  
    "Wankers," Spike informed them.  
  
    "So what's this place?" Spike asked as they parked outside Caritas and stood outside the remains of the karaoke bar. "Cits?" he read from the remains of the sign. "The hell?"  
    "This is the remains of Caritas, my karaoke bar," Lorne told him.  
    Spike choked on the smoke he'd just inhaled. "Beg pardon?"  
    "Lorne runs a karaoke bar," Fred reiterated. "Or...did...I didn't exactly ever get to go because he came here when I opened a portal to Pylea and I went to Pylea and then Cordelia went to Pylea and...I'm babbling..."  
    "Yes you are," Spike agreed. He took a swig from the potent alcohol in his left hand after removing the cigarette with his right. "Is there anythin' lef' of this place?"  
    "Not after Holtz blew the place up," Lorne replied sadly. He hung his head. So did Gunn, Wesley, and Fred. Cordelia just rolled her eyes and grabbed Spike by the arm, shoving him in the front seat.  
    "I'll be right back," Gunn dashed down the incinerated steps and came back with nothing. "Everythin' down there is ash."  
    "You're lucky something didn't collapse on you," Fred scolded gently.  
    "Ah I'm all right," Gunn threw a friendly arm around her shoulders and hugged her like that. "You know everythin's coo'."  
    Spike frowned at Gunn and Fred, then glanced at the empty bottle in his hand. He wondered when he'd gotten to be such a wuss that it only took one bottle of Jack to put him under the table. Then he put his head in his arms and cried.  
    Everyone rushed over to the car and piled into the backseat. "What's wrong, Spike?" Fred asked.  
    He mumbled something, and then louder said, "Leave me 'lone. I'm fine." He sniffed, tossed the empty bottle out of the car, and looked to Cordy. "Where're we goin' now?"  
    "Oh! I know!" Fred cried. "Let's take him to the library!"  
    "_What_?" Spike looked back at her. "The bloody _library_? No. Books, bad. Bad, bad books. No books."  
    "O...okay," Fred buckled her seatbelt as the others did too. Cordelia drove off, pointing out various spots. They drove by her apartment complex and by Wolfram & Hart.  
    Wesley saw a few demons of the peaceful sort walk into a discreetly marked warehouse. A vinyl banner proclaimed the warehouse to be 'El Demonios y Seres Humanos'. Spike squinted at the banner. "'El Demonios y Seres Humanos'...hey, Watch--" he closed his eyes, shook his head, and continued, "Pryce, doesn't that mean 'the demons and humans'?"  
    "Yes I believe it does," Wesley nodded. "Anything named that should be safe."  
    "For demons," Spike said. "Lemme go on in, I'll check the place ou'. If it's okay, I'll come ge' you two...three...uh..."  
    "Five, darlin'," Cordelia patted his leg.  
    "Five," Spike nodded. He climbed out of the car, pulling out a cigarette and raising it to his lips, then lowering his hand. "Who are you all again? I remember Queen C's name...and...you're...Fred," he pointed to Fred. "Righ'?"  
    Fred nodded. "This is Gunn, and that's Lorne, and that's Wesley."  
    "Gunn, Lorne, Wesley, righ'," he nodded. Spike then went into the club, leaving Cordelia, Wesley, Lorne, Fred, and Gunn to entertain themselves.  
    "I'd better go with him, make sure he doesn't hurt himself," Lorne hopped out of the car and caught up with the tipsy vampire.  
    The car was engulfed in silence. Fred broke the silence. "Is he gonna be okay?" she asked quietly. "He seems pretty torn up about Buffy..."  
    "He'll survive Hurricane Buffy," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Angel did. Though why that girl keeps attracting vampires..."  
    "Heads up," Gunn said quietly, discreetly nodding to a group of four vampires approaching the vehicle. The vampires passed the car and turned into the sidewalk leading up to El Demonios y Seres Humanos. "...Maybe not."  
    Spike and another vampire tumbled out of the club. Spike punched the other vampire in the face, his game face surfacing as he fought brutality with cunning and swiftness and strength. He threw the other vampire into the wall, and the vampire ducked as Spike faked a punch to the face and brought his knee to the younger vampire's midsection. "Learned tha' one," he grunted around his elongated teeth as he slammed his elbow on the base of his opponent's neck, "from the," he jammed his knee up to the vamp's nose, "Slayer!" He knocked the vampire back into the wall with a mighty roar and pulled a stake from his duster, promptly staking the vampire. The crowd that had gathered around them clapped and whistled and hooted for Spike. And for the first time since he'd gotten the chip in his head he felt respected, and feared as well as the demons and vampires and humans parted for him. He felt...like himself. He felt like Spike.  
    Lorne threaded his way through the crowd and approached Angel's car. "Did you guys see that? Spike really kicked demon butt! That was the most amazing display of vampiric strength I've seen in a long time. Besides Angel, of course."  
    "Lorne, you've only seen Angel fight. The rest of the time you're in Caritas," Cordelia replied.  
    "Well...yeah. But it's safe to go inside. Humans can't be hurt," Lorne told them. He still seemed a bit awed. "Most vampires are so sloppy at fighting..."  
    "And you would know this...how, Lorne?" Cordelia got out of the car and locked it.  
    "I've seen vampires fight outside of Caritas," Lorne informed her. "But really, it's safe in the club. Humans are safe."  
    "Well, what are we standin' around goofin' off for? Let's party," Gunn grabbed Wesley's and Fred's arms and led them into the club, Cordelia following, and Lorne trailing behind them.  
  
    "So I punched the bloke, _smack_! And he tries t' kick my legs ou' from underneath me, bu' see, I'm smarter 'n tha'," Spike was telling a crowd of vampires and demons and humans around him about a time in Brazil. He tapped his temple for emphasis. "Then I grab 'im by the throa', righ'? And throw tha' tosser in'o the cryp' and i' falls apar'." He was beginning to lose control of his t's and h's. The other demons kept buying him drinks, and Spike was never one to refuse a good drink. "An' the Schlay," he shook his head, trying to clear it of the fuzziness that had developed, "an' the _Slayer_," he emphasized the word to pronounce it correctly, "was in the bushes, hidin' like a sissy. So's I kick tha' demon in'a 'ead so 'ard 'is 'ead falls off."  
    "Wow," said one of the female vampires reverently, siddling up to him. "Say...you're Spike, aren't you? William the Bloody?"  
    "The very'ne," he replied, slurring "very" and "one" into a single word by accident. "Killer a two Schlayers! Childe o' Druschilla and grand-childe o' Angelush, great-grand-childe of Darla!"  
    "Wow," she said again, pressing her way to the front of the crowd finally and pressing her body against his left side. "So you know the Slayer?"  
    "Know 'er? I shagged her in'o obliv'on," Spike stated proudly.  
    Suddenly, a scream ripped through El Demonios y Seres Humanos. Lorne ran from where he had been chatting with his cousin Landok, who had returned from Pylea and started up a club in the fashion of Lorne. "Oh my god, Angel!" Cordelia cried from the center of the room, clutching her head and wheezing. "Oh my god! It's _Angel_! And Connor!"  
    Spike jumped up but immediately regretted it as the world swirled around him. "Connor?" he asked, as the club had gone silent.  
    Cordelia struggled to her feet. "Angel's in trouble!" she fought off Gunn and Wesley as they tried to help her out. Instead she shoved the keys to Angel's convertible into Wesley's hands and stumbled out of the door, dragging Spike with her. "Oh my god, they're gonna get Connor," Cordelia whispered, going over the vision she just had again in her mind. "They're gonna dust Angel. _Move your asses, Gunn, Wesley, Fred, Lorne!_"  
    "Wha' the bloody 'ell was tha'?" Spike rubbing his head and closing one eye, looking at her.  
    "A vision," Cordelia explained as everyone piled into the car. "And you are so unbelievably hammered, aren't you?"  
    "I guess," Spike shrugged. He lurched forward when Wesley paused briefly at a stop sign and lurched backwards when they accelerated.  
    "Why'd you have to get drunk when Angel's going to be attacked?" Cordelia asked despairingly. "Without you we may as well just be killed. Angel's the only other one with strength like yours, and without that, Angel's going to die again and Connor's going to too."  
    "I kin still figh'," Spike scoffed indignantly and almost rolled into the front seats as the car stopped.  
    "You can't even stand," Cordelia shook her head as she climbed out of the car and dug in the trunk for a weapon to use. She pulled out a sword, attempting to expertly wield it. Spike followed her, steadying himself for a moment on the door. He took a deep, unneeded breath and walked in a straight line to the trunk, pulled out an axe, and followed Wesley and Gunn. "In the back," Cordelia motioned, "it was in the back!"  
    Spike grabbed Gunn's arm, "Hit me."  
    "What?" Gunn looked at Spike like he'd lost his mind.  
    "Hit me, dammit," Spike snarled.  
    Gunn shrugged and did as told. Then he could've sworn he saw little birds fly around the peroxide blond head of Spike's. Spike shook his head, sobered a little. "Thanks, mate," he clapped Gunn on the back and hurried after Wesley, Cordelia, and Fred. Within moments, a large lumbering demon with seven horns and matching eyes with four arms and three legs covered in slime appeared out of the shadows. Spike and Gunn tucked and rolled, ending up behind the demon and striking it in unison. Wesley came over, raised his sword above his head, and nearly cleaved Gunn's arm off. Cordelia managed to stab the slimey demon in one of its arms and screamed when she couldn't grab the sword out. Fred tried her hand at injuring the demon, but failed miserably--even got thrown into the wall behind the Hyperion. Spike brought the butt of his axe down on the demon's shoulder, making it turn towards him, and on a lucky swing managed to cleave off one of the arms--the arm Cordelia had stuck her sword in.  
    Gunn sliced off another arm from behind the demon, and when it turned around, Spike chopped off one of its legs. It was Spike's second night in Los Angeles, and he was already liking this city more than Sunnydale.  
    "Stop with the slicing and dicing already!" Cordelia yelled at them as the demon toppled over from lack of all three legs. She brought her sword down and chopped off the demon's head.  
    "Have to slice and dice, girl," Gunn informed her, chopping off the rest of its limbs with Spike.  
    Once the demon melted away, Cordelia dropped her sword and ran through the Hyperion until she found Angel, who had just put Connor to bed. She threw herself into his arms, hugging him close. "Oh Angel," she murmured. "Angel, Angel...you're okay...you're okay...you're alive..."  
    "Yeah, that I am," Angel agreed, returning the embrace. "Not exactly alive, but..."  
    "You're not a pile of dust," she pulled back and put her hands on either side of his face. "Oh I was so afraid we didn't get here in time," she kissed both of his cheeks.  
    Angel, bewildered but not rejecting her advances, then asked, "What happened?"  
    "I had a vision that you," she kissed his forehead, "and Connor were killed by a demon. And we got here in time. Thank God," she kissed him full on the mouth, reassuring herself that he was there.  
    Angel didn't have time to return the kiss before he heard footsteps and voices pouring into the lobby. Cordelia broke away. "We saved him!" she cried. "See? Look! He's alive!"  
    "Undead, pet," Spike corrected.  
    "Where's Lorne?" Wesley asked, looking around. "Is he still in the car?"  
    "I think so," Fred answered.  
    Lorne walked in the front door with a blank sheet of paper, looking at it curiously. He handed it to Angel, shrugging. "It's for you. The girl who gave it to me said it was from the Conduit."  
    Gunn frowned. "Why would the PTB have any beef with you, man?"  
    "I...I don't know," Angel's brow scrunched up as he read the blank sheet of paper. He suddenly looked up, folding the paper and sticking it in his pocket. "I gotta go. I'll be back soon." He started off, paused, turned around and looked at Cordelia, then thought the better of whatever he was going to do and left Angel Investigations headquarters.  
  
    Angel fell into the large spherical dirt pit that was the Conduit's domicile. A large, circular bonfire sat in the center of the circle. "Uh...Conduit?"  
    "It speaks," voices whispered around him. A female and male voice suddenly spoke above the others.  
    "It is wary," they said, slightly out of synchronization. "It wants to know why it has been summoned."  
    "It has a soul," the other voices whispered, awed.  
    Angel raised his eyebrows. "Are we going to get to a point anytime soon?"  
    "It has a sense of humor," the male and female voices intoned. "Like its mate."  
    "Mate?" Angel echoed.  
    "Friend. Love," the male and female voices announced. "Coworker. Assistant. Mate."  
    "Cordelia?" Angel whispered.  
    "It is intelligent," the miscellaneous voices said mockingly.  
    "What's this all about?" Angel asked, spreading his arms open, then thinking the better of it and folding them, slowly stalking around the fire.  
    "It has its soul permanent. It has repented enough to keep its soul," the male and females voices told him.  
    Angel stood there, stunned. "You...you mean, I get to keep my soul? I can keep my soul? I can have a moment of pure happiness and not turn into Angelus?"   
    "It is correct," the male and female voices said.  
    Angel let out an ecstatic whoop. "Tell the Powers That Be thank you!" 


	4. L.A. I: 3/Five Words (Interludey)

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles I  
**Part**: Three -- Five Words  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated PG-13.  
**Pairings**: Ugh! Too many to name!  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
**Notes**: This part is fairly interludely. As in you can skip this part and head on over to part four. _**If you haven't seen season five, go ahead and read this part. It will catch you up on what happened, Buffy/Spike-wise.**_  
  
~*~ 3/Five Words ~*~  
  
    Angel, newly restored permanent soul, wandered the halls of the Hyperion in search of Spike. It had been eight days since his arrival, going on the the ninth night. Angel had expected Spike to high-tail it out of there as soon as he could, but instead he found Cordelia and Spike playing with Connor in the lobby at times. Spike also pitched in whenever he could, whether it was a walk=in case, a vision, or simply helping clean up everyone or all the weapons after a particularly gruesome battle, or helping dispose of demon remains. At night, Angel could hear Spike muttering to himself about the people in Sunnydale drunkenly in the wee hours of the morning since his room was right underneath Angel's. Spike was such a walking contradiction, it was hard to tell when the vampire sincerely meant something or was telling a lie with a straight face. Which brough Angel to his current situation: why was Spike there? What did he want?  
    He found spike playing with Fred and Connor. Angel saw the fragile friendship forming between the two and was glad Fred didn't mind Spike as much as the others. Wesley didn't particularly care for Spike, in the sense that he could barely look at the vampire without flinching. Gunn didn't mind him, but didn't always want to hang out with him. Cordelia tried a little too hard to be his friend, in the process pushing the blond vampire away. It was as if seeing Spike brought out the Queen C lurking in the depths of Cordelia's Los Angeles heart, almost as if she felt compelled to bring out the popularly snotty rich girl infect Angel's mate. Funny how he began to think of Cordelia Chase as his mate ever since the Conduit had proclaimed he so. He didn't doubt what he felt anymore now.  
    "Spike?" Angel asked softly, hating to interrupt the bonding time. The platinum blond turned and trained his ice blue eyes on Angel. "Can I speak with you a minute?" he glanced at Fred and Connor. "Alone?"  
    Spike leaned over and kissed Connor on the forehead and ruffled Fred's hair, "Be righ' back," and walked over to Angel. "Wha's up, Soul Boy?"  
    "I should be asking you that," Angel looked his grand-childe in the eye. "What's your deal, Spike? You show up on my doorstep more than a week ago and you haven't left except to get totally plastered at some random bar--"  
    "Y Seres," he said.  
    "What now?" Angel cocked an eyebrow at him.  
    "Y Seres. Not some random bar. El Demonios y Seres Humanos, or Y Seres. That Lorne bloke's cousin, Landok, owns it," Spike shrugged.  
    "Whatever. You haven't left except to get plastered or work on a case or go solve one of Cordy's visions. It's not that I don't appreciate the help, I'm just curious as to why you would come to _me_ for anything. I don't know why you're here, if it's not for money. So, tell me," Angel asked gently.  
    Spike studied his sire's sire for a moment, then looked back in on Fred and Connor. Connor started bawling.  
    "Spike!" Fred called. "Spike, help me out here!"  
    Spike ducked back into the room with a quick smirk to Angel, then proceeded to avoid him for the rest of the night.  
  
    Cordelia saw the tenion between Spike and Angel before either of them spoke and decided to get everyone out so Spike and Angel could resolve whatever differences had caused _this_ tension to build. "Fred, Gunn, Wes--I need some help with that thing at my apartment," she said suddenly yet conversationally to the occupants of the room.  
    Fred looked up from Connor, whom she ad Cordelia were playing with, and gave her a questioning look. Understanding sparked her eyes after a moment.  
    "Oh right. The thing," Gunn improvised, having caught on. "C'mon English, Fred," he rose from the table. "Let's go help Cordy with the thing."  
    "Yeah, the thing," Fred accepted Gunn's hand as he hauled her up.  
    Spike dutifully took Connor, surprising himself with how attached he's come to be to the the little boy. The troop left, leaving Spike, Connor, and Angel to their own devices. Lorne had long since gone to Y Seres to visit with the newly reformed Landok. "The bloody universal 'thing'. The Scooby way of leaving an awkward situation," Spike said, looking at connor but talking as much to the baby as he was himself and Angel. "You'd do well to remember tha', Tyke. Whenever, if you ever, go up t' Sunnydale and see my mates the Scoobies, if they say they have a 'thing', tha' means they're leavin' you alone with someone or they're uncomfy."  
    "Before you came here, I thought you only associated with children to eat them," Angel piped up.  
    "So did I," Spike agreed. "Though I haven't eaten a kid in forever. Bu' I like this one for some reason."  
    "Maybe being up in Sunnydale with Buffy so long made your heart open up," the darker haired man suggested.  
    Spike averted his eyes to Angel without moving his head. "Pro'ly. Pro'ly takin' care of the Li'l Bit did it to me."  
    "Spike," Angel crouched near the younger vampire, trying to appear unintimidating. "Just tell me why you're here. Whatever happened, whatever you did--I promise I won't kick you out or dust you or get angry with you or anything."  
    Spike picked up Connor and promptly left the room. Angel rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Whoever said vampires couldn't get headaches was wrong. So he set off insteach of his elusive grand-childe.  
    The first place he had checked was Connor's side of the room he claimed. Then he checked Spike's room. And, surprise surprise, he found Spike watching Connor sleep on his pillow.  
    Angel stood in the threshold, not wanting to disturb Spike.  
    "I'm in love with her," he said, his words pronounced crisply and clearly.  
    "With who?" Angel asked, not quite comprehending.  
    "Her. The Slayer. My Buffy," he didn't dare take his eyes from Connor, afraid of seeing an old flame flicker in Angel's eyes.  
    "Oh," Angel blinked. "Why did you come to me?"  
    "I'm gettin' there, Peaches, hold your soddin' horses," Spike growled. Angel realized it took a lot for Spike to open up and tell Angel what he wanted to know. "I've been in love with her for a long while now. Almos' a year and a half. God, Angel, when died...I thgouht I had died all over again. I saw her body, Angel, and I saved her every bloody night' for 148 nights," he smoothed the comforter out next to him. "For 148 nights I saw her fall from tha' tower, and for 148 nights I found 148 different ways to save her." Spike's speech had gotten clearer and clearer as he moved into the numb place.  
    Angel tilted his head to the side. "Did you ever tell her how much you love her?"  
    "Once," Spike grimaced. "Drusila came back las' year and tried to enlist my help in turning you back into Angelus with Darla. Had to deal with her _ and_ Harm while Iwas tellin' her how I felt. Tied 'em both up..."  
    "Who? Drusilla and Harmony?"  
    "Dru and buffy. Harm didn't show up until _after_ I tried to dust Dru."  
    Angel sank down against the doorframe. "Saints preserve us," he muttered, his old Irish accent coming through a little. "So...you had Dru and Buffy tied up and you told Buffy you loved her, then tried to dust Dru and Harmony showed up?"  
    "Tha's about the gist," Spike nodded.  
    "Okay. Why'd you do that? Tie Buffy up?" Angel frowned.  
    "I couldn't get her to bloody listen to me any other way," Spike said defensively.  
    "So...Buffy rejected you. Then what?" Angel looked at him.  
    "Had Warren build me a robot of her," Spike looked away, shame-faced.  
    "I...I think we can skip what you did with the robot," Angel decided.  
    "Well, Glory kidnapped me 'cause she thought the Buffybot was really Buffy and I was the bloody Key," Spike huffed. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to sit there and be tortured by a bloody _hell god_ when you know who and what it is she's really looking for? For Christ's sake, Angel, I'm not a bloody invalid and the _last_ think I'd do is purposely hurt Buffy and Dawn like that."  
    "Okay, after Glory kidnapped you, what happened?" Angel pressed. No one had told him these stories before, and he was curious. He'd known Glory had been a psychotic brain-sucking hell god after the Key, formerly Dawn Summers, Buffy's little sister, and that because of Glory Buffy had had to throw herself from a rickity tower to close a portal between all dimensions.  
    "Buffy and the troops rescued me. They thought I would give up Dawn to Glory," Spike smoother back what little hair Connor had. "By tha' time I was unconcious or so bloody out of it I didn't even know what was going on." He rubbed a spot on his chest at the memory. "In any case, when I came to I was in my crypt. Buffy came in, in the Buffybot's outfit. She asked me wha' happened, and I told her tha' Glory had tried to take the Key. So she offered to go tell Glory who the Key really was. I stopped her an' told her tha' Buffy meant the world to me, and so did Dawn, ultimately, so I'd never hurt either of them or put either of them in danger unless I had to. So Buffy leaned over and kissed me an' thanked me for not giving Dawn up to Glory."  
    Angel nodded. "Go on."  
    "So...after tha', Dawn got kidnapped by Glory an' Buffy went to save her..." Spike trailed off, a severely wounded-bird look haunting his eyes. "I could've saved her. There's so many things I could've done to save her. If I had just..."  
    Angel moved over to the bed and slowly sat down next to him, tentatively rubbing the younger man's back. "Shhh...it's over, she's alive now."  
    "She wouldn't have had to bloody _die_ in the first place! If I had just..._done_ something..." Spike was taking deep breaths now, trying to keep his voice low to not wake Connor.  
    "Let's move away from that night," Angel suggested as Spike shoved his arm away. "So, after Buffy came back."  
    "After Buffy came back, we went through some stuff. A demon came and made us all sing and dance like a bunch of ninnies. After the spell wore off, we had to sing one last song. I left as soon as I had my own free will back, and she followed me out. She sang something about the fire...and she kissed me. Then, later, Willlow cast a spell and we all forgot who we were. The Watcher left as asoon as we remembered, and then Buffy and I made out in the Bronze."  
    Angel just nodded. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt to hear this. He just felt sorry for Spike. He knew Spike always felt more human emotions than the run-of-the-mill vampire, so he had no doubt of the boy's sincerity. "After that?"  
    "Well...we...we shagged," Spike whispered, shrugging. "Bloody best thing I've ever done in my unlife. But that was a few days afterwards. And then Buffy turned invisable, and we did it again. Now, don't misunderstand me, she stated all of this. I swore after I told her I was in love with her that I would _never_ take advantage of her."  
    "I believe you," Angel assured him. He was going to trust Spike's word for one. "So...why did you come to me?"  
    "She loves me, mate, I know it. I can feel it. Elsewise why would she keep coming back t' me? She just won't admit it. I can feel she loves me. In my...in my heart I feel it," Spike looked Angel in the eye. "And you're the only one I know who can get her. you're the one who can get to admit her feelings."  
    "I see."  
    "I know you love someone here. Cordelia?"  
Angel's eyebrows twitched at the name and the corners of his mouth twitched as well. Spike had found the ticket.  
    "So. What are you saying? Why are you here?"  
    _Dammit, he's gonna make me say it,_ Spike cursed mentally.  
    "Peaches, I need your help." 


	5. L.A. I: 4/Not-Quite Mojo

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles I  
**Part**: Four -- Not-Quite Mojo  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated PG-13.  
**Pairings**: Ugh! Too many to name!  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Not-Quite Mojo ~*~  
  
    Angel agreed to the proposition Spike laid in front of him, albeit reluctantly. Spike seemed to genuinely love the former Slayer, and the way Spike presented it, Buffy seemed to love him too. He was glad--he wouldn't have to break Buffy's heart when he finally claimed his mate. Angel didn't think it possible, but his heart fluttered whenever he thought of her.  
    Spike must have noticed the reluctance but he knew Angel would keep his word. So now all Spike had to do was sit back, relax, and wait for the older vampire to come up with something to do. But maybe he should push a certain someone into another someone's arms first.  
    So that found Spike sitting on the sofa with Cordelia across the room talking with Angel. Gunn had left, claiming that he forgot to do something earlier. Spike had watched all of them to see which one was the most perceptive, which one of them would notice he was watching them. Wesley never even flinched when Spike had watched him for ten minutes straight, a predatory smirk adorning his lips. Next he watched Lorne. The demon had a severe case of the wiggins then and left up to the room he was staying in. That left one more person in the room that could help him with his plan: Winifred Burkle. As soon as he turned his gae to her, she turned her head to look at him.  
    There was a farmer had a dog and _Bingo_ was his name-o.  
    He knew he liked that girl fro a reason. "Fred Burkle."  
    "Spike," Fred nodded. Angel and Cordelia then left the room.  
    "I knew I liked you for some reason. C'mere," Fred picked up the book she'd been combing through and sat next to Spike. "Name's William. I was turned in 1880--"  
    "By Drusilla in London," Fred said with him. "Been doing my homework."  
    "Tell me what you know about me, pet," Spike prompted. "Not the stuff you learned from your books or anyone else."  
    "O-okay," Fred replied uncertainly. She took a deep breath, organizing her thoughts as she studied his face. "You love someone very much. Buffy, right? You love her completely. And you would never hurt anyone you care about. Am I close?"  
    Spike nodded. "On the money, pet. Anything else?"  
    "Well..." Fred tilted her head to the side, peering at his eyes. "You miss Sunnydale and everyone there. You know you can never go back though. Well, maybe not _never_. but somebody broke your heart there." Fred leaned closer. "Buffy broke your heart, didn't she? And this wasn't the first time your heart's been broken, is it?"  
    Spike was right. Fred was Miss Perception 2002.  
    "Who else do you think broke my heart?" he whispered.  
    "Poor baby," Fred suddenly hugged him. "Drusilla broke your heart. Goodness," she released him. "God. No wonder you came here."  
    "Congrats," Spike stretched. "You passed the test. Now. I've gotta personal question. Do you ever watch Angel?"  
    "I...used to," Fred shrugged. "But I stopped when I realized he'd never notice me in a million years with..."  
    "Hm? With Queen C around? I noticed," Spike rolled his eyes. "So what do we do about that?"  
    "Do about it?" Fred echoed. She paused. "We could...set them up?"  
    "But how? Dinner?" Spike wondered. "I've got it. Is there anywhere here we can discuss this without any of 'em overhearing?"  
    "Come on," Fred led him to a secluded room with thick walls. She locked the door. "Okay. Do you have a plan?"  
    Spike nodded and told her the plan.  
    She grinned, "Sounds good. Let's get started. Those two really need to get together."  
  
    Angel watched the note get slipped under the door and picked it up. It read, in Cordelia's handwritting:  
    Angel,  
    Please meet me at Georgio's, 7:30 p.m. sharp. Don't be late. I _hate_ that.  
    Love always,  
    Cordy  
    P.S. Don't worry about Connor, I enlisted two of the others in watching him.  
    Angel smiled...and got ready for his date.  
  
    Cordelia watched Phantom Dennis bring the envelope and pad of paper to her. He had written on the pad: A new boyfriend?  
    "Not that I know of," Cordelia shrugged. "Thank you, Dennis," she took the note.  
    Dearest Cordy,  
    Please meet me tonight at Georgio's, 7:30 p.m. Don't be late, it's a reservation.  
    Love,  
    Angel  
    P.S. Everything's taken care of. See you tonight.  
    Cordelia felt her heart swell. "Angel asked me out on a date!"  
    Both had failed to notice their notes were forged. Cordelia's note from Angel was forged by Spike, and Angel's note from Cordelia forged by Fred. As long as they didn't notice, everything would be fine.  
  
    "Wesley, Gunn," Fred ran over to them. Angel had just left. They could only assume Cordelia had left as well. "Spike just heard something about someone being in trouble. He and I are going to go investigate it. Watch the baby?"  
    "Sure," Gunn smiled. "Anythin' for you, girl," he took the baby and put him in the crib.  
    "Thank you!" Fred threw her arms around Gunn then hurried after Spike. They had to get to Georgio's andmake sure everything went right. Once they were there, Fred checked in with the host and told them that "Angel, party of two" consisted a tall brown-haired man with broody brown eyes and a girl with short lighter brownish blond hair. "Burkle, part of two" was to be seated near them, and that was her and a blond man outside. Then they lurked.  
    It was 7:27 p.m. and Cordelia was waiting for Angel on the curb.  
    Spike muttered about big poofs who won't follow their hearts for once. Then he muttered about where _that_ got _him_.  
    "He could still show up," Fred consoled the riled vampire. "He has...two minutes left now. And I _did_ say 7:30 sharp..."  
    Spike glanced at Fred' watch. "A minute and a half. Where the bloody hell is that wanker?"  
    Fred held her breath. "If he doesn't show, he doesn't deserve to be a Champion."  
    "He had forty-five seconds before I step in and take Cordelia in myself," Spike growled.  
    That's when Angel showed up with a bouquet of flowers. "Sorry I'm late, Cordy," he said. "Here," he thrust the bouquet at her like a nervous twelve- year-old. "I thought you would like them."  
    "Oh Angel, they're beautiful," Cordelia smiled.  
    Angel held his arm out to her and Cordelia gracefully accepted it. They walked into Georgio's, Spike and Fred behind them. Spike's heart squeezed, seeing how much the two enjoyed the others company. He looked at Fred and tilted his head slightly towards the two. She patted his arm soothingly. Soon, the four were seated. Thankfully, Angel and Cordelia were so wrapped up in nerves and each other that they didn't notice it when Spike and Fred claimed the table diagonally across from them.  
  
    At around nine o'clock, the two finished their meals. Fred and Spike had long since finished and even had dessert, but Angel and Cordelia ate like birds. And then had the nerve to order dessert.  
    Somehow, Spike and Fred seemed to beat Angel and Cordelia to Cordelia's building. Angel's car rolled lazily up to the curb and Angel hurried over to open the door for Cordelia. She stepped out, and they walked to the front of the building.  
    "Well," Angel said. He looked up at the building and back at Cordelia. "Guess this is where I go."  
    "I guess so," Cordelia echoed. She unconciously licked her lips.  
    "Listen, I really had a good time tonight," Angel told her, transfixed.  
    "Me too," Cordelia agreed.  
    "We should do this again sometime," he suggested.  
    "Angel?"  
    "Yes?"  
    "Shut up and kiss me."  
    And so he did.  
    Fred and Spike carefully crept back into his car and slowly drove off while the vampire and the seer shared their second kiss in front of Cordelia's apartment building.  
  
    When they arrived back at the Hyperion, Fred and Spike were greeted by a frazzled Wesley. "We have a rather large problem," he announced to them, out of breath. "A rather large, rather slimy, rather friendly problem."  
    Spike and Fred exchanged glances. "Wha's got you buggered, Pryce?" he asked.  
    "I don't know. I've never seen it before in my life, or-or even heard of it," Wesley thrust an axe at the idling vampire. "Perhaps you can go subdue it."   
    "Where's Gunn?" Fred asked, looking around.  
    Wesley winced and rubbed his forehead. "He's...ah..."  
    Panic flashed across Fred's features. "Oh my god, is he okay?!"  
    "He's fine, last I checked," Wesley told her as he led Spike to the demon they had cornered in the basement. "He's just...playing fetch with it."  
    Spike choked back laughter. "You've got to be bloody kiddin' me."  
    "I'm afraid not," Wesley winced. "It seems realtively harmless, but I don't think Angel will be too happy with this thing in his basement when he returns."   
    "I'll see wha' I can do," Spike threw himself into the basement, Gunn fleeing up the stairs then. He looked equally as frazzled as the ex-Watcher.  
    "Fred, where have you been, girl?" he hugged her.  
    Fred, heedless of the slime, hugged him back. Spike roared in the basement below. She tightened her hold on him. "Thank god you're okay."  
    Wesley looked at the two and smiled. They were cute together.  
    In a few minutes, Spike emerged from the basement covered in slime. His chest heaved in mock breathing. "I...I 'ave it chained," he told them. He looked at Gunn and Fred. "You two didn't tell me you were an item."  
    Fred blushed but smiled, "We're not an item."  
    "Well hurry up and ge' to it," Spike instructed. "_I'm_ goin' t' get me somethin' to eat."  
    And he "left" the room. "I think I shall go research that demon. See if it's a threat or not," Wesley backed out of the room.  
    Fred caught sight of Spike peering through the door at them. He winked at her and disappeared from the crack to go get himself something to eat. Fred looked up at Gunn, and was still in his arms. "C'mere, you big oaf," she smiled, tilting her head up as he lowered his mouth to hers.  
  
    Spike perched on the edge of Wesley's desk as he flipped through a book. "Looks like everyone's got themselves a significant other 'cept us and the Lizard Boy."  
    "His name's Lorne, Spike," Wesley corrected. A few moments silence passed. "Eureka!"  
    Spike did a double-take. "'Eureka'? Are you off your bloody bird, Pryce?"  
    "No," Wesley glared. "Pardon me if I don't conform to your standards, Spike. I just found out what that demon is. It's an adolescent Kaflat demon."  
    "Kaflat," Spike looked to the ceiling. "I don't think I've ever run into any of those."  
    "Well, they are quite rare, and usually stick to extreme temperatures, though I can't imagine what could've drawn this adolescent away from its mother," Wesley trailed off.  
    Suddenly Spike started laughing. He finished off the mug of pig's blood and patted Wesley on the back, shaking his head. He then left Wesley alone.  
    "Why do I get the feeling he's mocking me," Wesley murmured to himself. 


	6. L.A. I: 5/One. Good. Day.

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles I  
**Part**: Five -- One. Good. Day.  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy. "Cling and Clatter" belongs to Lifehouse.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated PG-13.  
**Pairings**: Ugh! Too many to name!  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ One. Good. Day. ~*~  
  
    Spike awoke on the couch in the lobby of the Hyperion a week after he match-made everyone together. The sun had just risen, and he could feel a strange tingling sensation on his arm and forehead. A gust of wind ruffled his hair, and the tingling sensation began to sting, and then to singe and he could smell smoke. "Bloody hell," he muttered, ducking under a blanket and running to the safety of the office located on the other side of the lobby. He saw an empty bottle of something potent enough to knock him out sitting on the desk and narrowed his eyes at it. "You," he growled. He picked up the empty bottle and tried to read the label, but his eyes still had yet to unblur. Instead, he lugged the glass bottle into the kitchen and dropped it in the recycling. He couldn't remember anything from last night, except he had gone to Y Seres, the club run by Landokmar of the Deathwok Clan, or, simply, Landok to Lorne and the others. Spike's head felt different too. He chalked it up to too many different alcohols in his system and trudged up the stairs to his room.  
    And as soon as he fell asleep again, the memories that had been shrouded when he first awoke decided to reveal themselves.  
  
_The Night Before_  
    Spike entered Y Seres, and the crowds parted like the seas for Moses. Nearly every time he came to Y Seres, he got into a fight with one of the customers outside the club. Tonight wasn't any different; he'd just come back in from beating the stuffing out of frog-like demon. And he had a crowd of faithful admirers. They were all vampires, the same group of vampires that had come to gawk at him the first night he'd beaten and staked a vampire outside the club after being inside it for a total of three or four minutes.  
    "Hello Amber," he said, taking a seat on one of the barstools. Amber was the one girl who'd chatted him up right before Cordelia had had her vision. She had short black hair and bright green eyes. Her nose was slightly hooked and her hips were slightly wider than her shoulders. She had long, thin arms and cottage cheese thighs. She wasn't the most attractive thing in the world, by far.  
    "Heya Spike," she smacked loudly on some gum.  
    "The usual?" asked Andy, the half-demon, half-human bartender.  
    Spike nodded, "The usual, Andy." Spike looked down at the counter. "Anyone got a piece of paper and a pen?"  
    A piece of paper slid in front of him followed by a pen.  
    "Thanks mate," he said to whoever had given the paper and pen to him. Spike had arrived on the evening of January 24. Angel had confronted him on his purpose of being in Los Angeles on February 2. February 4 had brought Cordelia and Angel together, and it also had brought Fred and Gunn together. Now, seven days later, February 11, found Spike getting drunk in Y Seres for god only knows how many times. He'd been in Los Angeles for officially nineteen nights now, eighteen days. And still no one from Sunnydale had tried to contact him. Not even Dawn.  
    There really _was_ nothing left for Spike in Sunnydale. He'd have to get used to Los Angeles as his home.  
    "Damn," he muttered, resting his head in his arms on the counter. Andy set his usual drink in front of him.  
    "Somethin' the mattah, Spike?" Amber asked. Amber was from New York, and had a heavy New York accent.  
    "I've been gone from the Hellmouth _nineteen bloody days_ and nobody bloody cares," he grumbled. He grabbed the mug in front of him and downed it in one gulp. "I'll have 'nother one, Andy."  
    Andy set another one in front of him. Spike gulped it down, ordered another. Andy refilled it, Spike drank it, Spike ordered another. It went on like this for five rounds.  
    "I don' need tha' bloody bitch!" Spike stood on the rungs of his barstool, leaning with one hand on the counter and a half-full mug in the other. "I don' even care anymore! She doesn' wan' me, tha's fine! See if I bloody care!" He took another gulp from the mug. "I'll ge' this bloody chip ou' of my bloody head and I'll go an' bloody ea' 'er _and_ 'er li'l sis! And I'll ea' 'er li'l friends too!"  
    Y Seres's patrons clapped for him.  
    "Do any o' you lo' 'appen t' know anyone 'oo could ge' this bloody chip outta my head?" Spike asked.  
    "I do," piped up one of his followers, a girl named Tiffany.  
    "Lead the way, pet," he nodded.  
  
    Spike's muddled mind allowed him to be calm while the demon doctor picked through his cerebrum. He finally felt a slight tug as the demon doctor pulled something out.  
    "Wow," the doctor commented. "This is quite a piece of work," he showed the chip to Spike. "Who do you say put this in your head?"  
    "Buncha lameass blokes called the Inishative," Spike answered, looking at the chip. "You gonna sew up the back o' my head enee time soon?"  
    "On my way," the doctor quickly stitched up his head. "Would you like to keep this?"  
    "Givit here," Spike snatched the chip and threw it on the ground. It took him three attempts to stomp on it, but when he finally did, hundreds of dollars of expensive wiring went scattering. Spike sneered at it. "G'bye ol' world."  
  
    Spike and Tiffany wandered the streets of L.A., looking for some tasty-looking Happy Meal on legs to snatch. Spike tried to focus on the passing Happy Meals, but he couldn't seem to find an appealing one. "Eh, Tiff," he slurred. "I dun think I'm gonna fin' anyone t' ea'..."  
    "Sure you are," Tiffay clapped him on the back, making the cement beneath his feet lurch. Evil cement.  
    "Bu' I can' fin' anyone who looks tastyyyy," he whined. The wall next to him reached out and smacked him. "Ow."  
    "Spike, man, you're gonna get yourself killed," Tiffany laughed, pulling him away from the wall he'd veered into.  
    "Am no'," he argued. He must've done something to offend the pole marking the bus stop, because it felt the need to bop him on the head. "Where'd Li'l Bunny Froo Froo go?"  
    Tiffany stared at him and started to crack up. "Little Bunny Foo Foo, Spike?"  
    "Yeah...he'sh goin' 'round boppin' me on the head," Spike took a wild swing at the pole and missed it by about two feet, spinning and hitting his back on the plastic window pane of the bus stop.  
    Tiffany grabbed him again and pulled him back into the flow of pedestrian traffic. "Here we go," Tiffany said, smiling. "There's the ticket. See those two?"  
    Spike looked where she was pointing. "No..."  
    She rolled her eyes. "Goodness, Spike. Maybe I should you take you on home."  
    "Fbtttt," Spike retorted, inadvertantly spitting on Tiffany. "I dun ne'ta go home. I dun ne'ta go t'Sunnyhell!" Suddenly he stopped. "Bu' I ne'ta see Buffy," his eyes filled with tears. "My Buffy..." he started to cry. "Buffy..."  
    Tiffany muttered about drunk vampires. "Dude, do you have a soul?"  
    "Buffy's my soul," Spike wailed.  
    "God, quiet down!" Tiffany clamped a hand over his mouth. Some of the people walking by them looked at them oddly, but then nodded in understanding as they realized that he must be getting over breaking up with his girlfriend or something. "Spike, I think I'd better get you back to the Hyperion."  
    "I dun wanna stay with the poof. I wanna go see my Buffy!" he clung to Tiffany as she dragged him slowly back to Y Seres.  
  
_Too many voices, it won't take long  
Which one's right and which one's wrong  
And yours is most likely to be misunderstood  
_  
    Spike stumbled drunkenly into Y Seres with Tiffany, sniffling from his little weeping bout. He stumbled over to the bar and looked at Andy, bleary eyed. "Ca' I," he hiccuped, "ca' I have 'nother o' my ushul?"  
    Andy looked to Tiffany for a translation.  
    "He wants another one of his usual," Tiffany rolled her eyes, patting Spike on the back.  
  
_Screaming in tongues  
At the top of my lungs  
Till I find you, till you found me  
Somehow I always knew that you would  
_   
    Andy reluctantly handed the mug of Spike's usual to him. Spike stared at it forlornly and finally picked it up, taking a gulp. It scalded the back of his throat, burning as it dripped down into his stomach to be absorbed in his defunct liver.  
    "What's wrong with him?" Andy whispered to Tiffany a littler farther down the bar.  
    "Buffy, as usual," Tiffany shrugged.  
  
_And I am contemplating matters  
All this cling and clatter  
In my head, what you said  
Is ringing, ringing faster  
And it's all good if you would  
Stop the world from making sense  
And if I could just realize  
It doesn't really matter  
_   
    Spike took another drink out of his mug, finishing it off. "Andy," he called. He planned on getting so drunk he wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. Because right then, his heart hurt more than anything. "Andy, I needa 'nother..."  
  
_It doesn't really matter_  
  
    "Spike, I don't think--" Andy started.  
    Spike snarled, going game face and grabbed the front of Andy's shirt. "I needa 'nother, Andy."  
  
_It doesn't really matter_  
  
    Andy nodded, "Right, Spike. Another one. Coming up."  
    Spike released Andy.  
  
_If I could touch the sound of silence now  
You know I would if I knew how  
To make these intentions come around  
I'm hearing without listening  
And believing every word that you are not saying  
Speaking without a sound_  
  
    Andy walked over to the phone behind on the wall between the shelves of liquor and dialed the Hyperion's phone number.  
    :Hello, Angel Investigations,: said Cordelia.  
    "Hi Miss Cordelia," Andy replied. "Guess who."  
    Cordelia made a snorting noise. :I'll send Wes or someone down to pick him up.:  
    "It'd be wise to hurry," Andy advised. "He looks like he's going to pass out any minute. And I should warn you--one of my customers took him away to go find a doctor that would take the chip out of his head."  
    Silence. :Okay. I'll send Angel down. Thanks for the heads up, Andy.:  
    "No problem, Miss Cordelia. Sorry to bother you," and he hung up the phone.  
    That's when he heard the barstool clatter to the ground, followed by a loud thump.  
  
_February 12_  
    Spike dragged himself out of bed. His head felt like it was being beaten from the inside out, and the back of his head throbbed. He gingerly touched the stitches there, and a tingling sensation fizzed through his veins. He hadn't been dreaming when he dreamt that he got the chip out of his head. If he wanted to, he could go out into the lobby and eat any one of them except for Angel. He smiled crookedly. He felt rejuvenated. No restraints, no boundaries, no one or nothing to hold him back. No pesky Buffy preaching to him about the wrongness of eating innocent human beings, no chip zapping him whenever he attempted to give into his inner demon...in short, Spike felt free.  
    So he rose and walked over to the door, trying to open it. For some reason, the door was locked. He jiggled the handle in vain. Then he started pounding on the door. "Lemme out! C'mon! This isn't funny!"  
    He heard footsteps approach the door and he stopped banging. "Spike," said Angel.  
    "Lemme outta here, you bloody poofter," Spike kicked the door.  
    "Do you remember what happened last night?" Angel asked guardedly.  
    "Yes, I _remember_. But I'm not gonna go Big Bad and eat alla you!" Spike yelled. The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them, and he didn't really care at this point. He felt caged.  
    "How can I trust you?" Angel wanted to know.  
    "Dammit Angel!" Spike banged his fist on the door so hard the entire door vibrated and he heard Angel jump back a little. "Why can't you jus' friggin' _trust_ me?! I haven' done a damn thing t' you _or_ anyone here except the bloody demons!"  
    Angel unlocked the door and allowed Spike access to the hallway. "Sorry."  
    Spike brushed past Angel, throwing a dirty look at him, and going down the stairs. "I'll be back later. I'm not going to Y Seres," he announced to the occupants of the lobby. He checked the clock sitting next to the weapons case that Cordelia had put up the day before, then looked outside. It had gone from twilight to night an hour ago, giving him the freedom of the city. "Don' wait up for me." He grabbed his duster out of the closet and shoved his cigarettes in one of the pockets. He nodded to them and took off.  
    Angel thundered down the stairs then. "Where is he?"  
    Cordelia shrugged. "He just said he's going out and he's not going to Y Seres. Maybe we should call and see if Landok or Andy has seen him in a half- hour or so."  
    Angel nodded. "Maybe we should."  
  
    Spike stalked down the street, ending up somewhere near Oak Street. He stormed past several angry Hispanic residents, following a beautiful woman with mud brown eyes, lighter tan skin, and long black hair accompanied by a tiny waist. When he finally caught up with her, he glanced around for any onlookers and grabbed her mouth from behind and dragged her into an alley. "Don't scream," he whispered, his face morphing.  
    Fear filled her big brown eyes and she tried to scream against Spike's hand.  
    "Shut up," he growled threateningly. "Come on now, at leas' you're afraid of me, right? Tha's somethin'. So...now tha' I have tha' chip out, I'm goin' t' have myself one. Good. Day. Okay?"  
    She stared at him, no longer very afraid.  
    Spike roared. Or tried to intimidate her somehow, now that she wasn't afraid of him anymore. "C'mon, you bint! I'm about to _eat_ you!"  
    The girl started laughing.  
    "Bloody hell," Spike's game face melted back into his human visage. "I can't even strike terror into the hearts of innocents anymore. You know, this is all _her_ fault."  
    "Whose fault?" the girl asked as he released her mouth.  
    "Drusilla! Tha's who," Spike grumbled.  
    "Drusilla's an old girlfriend, I assume?" she tilted her head to the side.  
    "Yes. If she hadn't a left me, I never woulda fallen in love with Buffy," Spike snorted.  
    "I'm Isobel," she offered.  
    "Spike," he replied distractedly. "You know, I never woulda even come to Los Angeles if he hadn't a been for Drusilla. Bloody hell, if we hadn't been mobbed in Prague I wouldn't have even bloody _met_ Buffy!"  
    "I'm sorry," Isobel offered, perching on the edge of the Dumpster with him and rubbing his back.  
    Spike shook his head. "Bloody hell. You're s'posta be my dinner, know tha', Isobel? Instead I'm sittin' here tellin' you about my troubles."  
    Isobel smiled sympathetically. "I don't mind."  
    Spike proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale.  
  
    After his run in with Isobel, Spike tried two more times to eat a human. The third time he managed to work up the nerve to bite his prey, only to find the human blood tasted sour on his tongue. He'd immediately spit it out and told the wanker he'd bit to run away.  
    By then it was almost midnight, so he crawled back to the Hyperion. Then he sought out the pig's blood in the refrigerator, warmed it up, and thought nothing ever tasted so good. 


	7. L.A. I: 6/Riley

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles I  
**Part**: Six -- Riley  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated PG-13.  
**Pairings**: Angel/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Take a Stab At It, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Riley ~*~  
  
    A scream ripped through the Hyperion at precisely 3:16 p.m.  
    The only reason Spike knew this was because he rolled over and checked the clock as soon as he heard the scream.  
    He stumbled down to the lobby in nothing but his boxer shorts to find Cordelia in Angel's arms, panting. "A man...tall, brown hair...attacked by..."  
    She looked at Spike, frightened. Everyone else filled in the blank and took a step back. However, Spike wasn't paying attention. His ears pricked up at the sound of a window sliding open and the double thump of heavy commando boots up two floors. He suddenly bolted for the stairs, running as quickly and quietly as unhumanly possible. He ran into his room and tackled his intruder to the floor, pinning his arms to the floor.  
    "Lemme go!" his captive wriggled underneath him.  
    "Captain Cardboard?" Spike let go of Riley in shock.  
    The younger man shoved Spike from his back and jumped up, dusting himself off. "Hostile Seventeen."  
    Spike narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing in L.A.? More particularly, what the bloody hell are you doin' in my room?"  
    Riley reeled back. "_Your_ room? _You_ live here?"  
    Spike snorted. "Did I stutter, G. I. Joe?"  
    "Why do you live here? You're supposed to be in Sunnydale," Riley narrowed his eyes.  
    "I live here because Buffy kicked me out of Sunnydale. Peaches and I have an understanding," Spike informed Buffy's ex-beau.  
    "What does Angel think of your...feelings...for Buffy?" Riley asked.  
    "He supports them," Spike smirked, knowing Angel had been insanely protective of Buffy when Riley was involved with her.  
    "That's funny, Spike," Riley snorted. "Why would he support _your_ feelings for _his_ ex-girlfriend?"  
    "Because he's in love with Cordelia," Spike explained tiredly. "Now you answer my question. Why are you here?"  
    "I need to speak with Angel," he glared at Spike.  
    "Then get out of my room," Spike shoved him out...into Angel. "Lookie who I found, Angel."  
    "Riley," Angel's eyes flashed. Riley then realized the situation he was in: he was trapped between two vampires who had the capability to hurt him very badly and would need little prompting and would have no hesitation to do so.  
    "Angel," Riley said. "I have to speak to you."  
    "About what?" Angel arched an eyebrow.  
    "Holtz. Daniel Holtz and his army."  
  
    "So...Holtz was preserved by a demon and now he wants revenge on Angelus for killing him family," Cordelia rubbed her forehead. "Perfect. My boyfriend's being hunted by a guy whose family died at Angel's evil alter-ego's hands two hundred years ago." Cordelia had actually forgotten about Holtz in the past weeks. Spike had gone back to sleep, asking Fred to fill him in later.  
    "And now he's gathering an army of humans whose families have died by vampires," Fred sighed. "What a predicament."  
    "So...how are we gonna defeat these dudes? Y'all, if these folks are backed by this demon guy, we're pretty damn useless, us humans," Gunn pointed out, snaking an arm around Fred's waist. She leaned against him tiredly.  
    "We need Spike," Wesley said. "He's got the right mindset for this sort of thing."  
    "Wes is right," Lorne agreed. "As much as the guy gets under our skins that's what we need. He knows how to find weaknesses."  
    "Fred, go wake him up," Angel nodded to her and turned to Riley. "If you're lying or setting us up, you'll regret it."  
    Riley nodded. "Understood."  
    In a few minutes, Fred returned with a bleary eyed but caught up Spike. He looked at everyone and down at himself, shrugging off the fact he was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants Angel had graciously donated to Spike's ever-growing wardrobe. Spike yawned and muttered about an ungodly hour to wake up. "So...you need my expertise?"  
    Angel nodded. "Army of humans backed by demonic power and led by a guy hell-bent on revenge. What do we do?"  
    "Get rid of the demonic power," Spike shrugged. "Without that, they'll just be a buncha rage-driven Happy Meals."  
    "See? I knew I let Drusilla turn this boy for a reason," Angel clapped him on the back. Spike just stared at him like he'd lost his mind.  
    "After that you get rid of the weapons and take out the leader," Spike concluded. "You needed to wake me up for _that_?"  
    Riley rubbed his temples. "The thing is, we don't know who's backing Holtz and his army."  
    "Spike," Angel said.  
    "Spike's backing the army?" Riley asked ingeniously.  
    "No, you stupid inbred invalid," Spike spat. He turned to Angel. "Dammit Angel, let me sleep."  
    "Go back to sleep."  
    "There _is_ a god."  
    "But."  
    "Of course. You couldn't let me rest in peace, could you?"  
    "When you wake up, take Riley with you to go find anything on this demon. You're good at that."  
    "Maybe I should pretend I'm a cucumber."  
    "Cordy, Lorne--stay here and watch the baby. Gunn, Wes, Fred: you three see if you can find out if Wolfram and Hart are still after Connor. I'll go out and see if I can weasel anything out of the Conduit. Commence Operation Holtz an hour after sundown."  
    "Dammit, Angel!"  
    "An hour after sundown."  
    "Wanker."  
  
    An hour after sundown, Spike awoke with Riley hovering over him. With a stake. Ready to dust him. "Bloody _hell_," Spike threw Riley off.  
    Riley just bounced back up and pounced on Spike. "I just came from Sunnydale."  
    "Bully for you," Spike retorted sarcastically, grabbed Riley's wrist, socking the boy in an attempt to rise from the bed. "Your point?"  
    "Buffy's in pieces over you," Riley retaliated by knocking Spike's head back with his elbow.  
    "_She_ bloody kicked me out!" Spike kicked Riley off. "If she's so torn up about it, why didn't she call?! Bitch just wants to have her cake and eat it too."  
    "Angel told her you didn't want to speak to her," Riley dove at Spike with the stake.  
    "I'll kill 'im," Spike grabbed the stake from his grasp and headed out of the door.  
    "Wait," Riley grabbed his arm. "How long have you been here, Spike?"  
    "Twenty-two bleedin' nights."  
    "And you haven't tried to contact anyone in Sunnydale?"  
    "What part of 'they kicked me out' do you _not_ understan'?"  
    "You love her, don't you?"  
    "Are you going somewhere with this, Soldier Boy?"  
    "Call her."  
    "No bloody way in hell. The day I call her is the day Hell freezes over."  
    "Call her, dammit. Let her know you're okay."  
    "No. I'm not goin' back t' the Hellmouth, and I'm not gonna talk t' anyone. I need closure. She _threw me out_. Got it?"  
    "You know L.A. will never be your home."  
    "Are you _trying_ t' push me inta Buffy's arms?"  
    "Remember what you told me? I'm not the long-haul guy? Spike, I know _you're_ a long-haul guy. You stayed with the same woman for a century. Ever since you two were under that spell, she'd been trying to deny her feelings for you. And now she can't keep a lid on her feelings anymore. So just call her. Call her tonight, call her to tomorrow. Just call her."  
    "Lovely monologue. Let's get going, you stupid git. Just because you're encouraging me doesn't mean I like you."  
    "Wouldn't have it any other way."  
    "But thanks for the support, mate."  
    "Uh huh."  
    Spike tossed a smallish sword to Riley from the weapons case and armed himself with an axe. He slung it over his back and walked over to Cordelia, Lorne, and Connor. "Keep 'im safe, all righ'?" he told Cordy. He kissed the baby's forehead and hugged Cordelia, then did a little high-fivey thing with Lorne. "Protect 'em, Lizard Boy."  
    "I will, Drac," Lorne nodded. The green demon had taken to calling Spike "Drac" because of his Lizard Boy nickname. Drac was short for Dracula, but Spike didn't object to it. He knew Lorne meant nothing personal by it.  
    Spike's lips twitched into half of a smile. "Bye, Lizard Boy. Anythin' happens to the Li'l Tyke or Queen C and I'm holdin' you responsible."  
    Riley watched this scene with great interest.  
    Why, if he didn't know any better, he would say Spike had developed a soul.  
  
    Riley had done a lot of things in his life, but he had never, _never_ crawled through a sewer as dirty as the one he and Spike were tramping through. A rat scurried past his feet. It was a rat the size _of_ his foot. Riley shivered and hurried over to Spike.  
    "Weenie," Spike muttered.  
    "There are rats the size of my feet in here," Riley told Spike.  
    "Wee. Nie," Spike reiterated slowly. "Wimp. Coward. Loser."  
    Riley grumbled, "Look who's talking."  
    Spike just laughed quietly at him. In the distance, he heard splashing in the sewage water, and it sounded different and heavier than the rats or anything else that naturally lived in the sewer. He clamped his hand over Riley's mouth and pulled him into the shadows. The splashing got nearer. Someone, or something, was running through the sewer. It was undead, whatever it was, because Spike heard no heartbeat from the runner.  
    "I wish you weren't human," Spike muttered. "If I can smell your fear, then so can wha--" he stopped. He shifted. "Oh bugger," he muttered. "This way," he dragged Riley into a tunnel that branched off from the main tunnel. "Take a deep breath Riley, slow down your heartbeat."  
    Riley did as told. He slowed it so _Spike_ could hardly hear it.  
    "Commando training?" Spike whispered. Riley just nodded.  
    "_POOKIE!_" a tangle of female limbs and blond hair jumped on Riley and squeezed.  
    "Dammit!" Riley exclaimed. "Jesus, Harmony!"  
    Spike's face twitched as he tried desperately to choose between laughing at his comrade or running away in fear.  
    "...Blondie-bear?" Harmony turned and looked at Spike. "Boo-boo!"  
    "Boo-boo?" Riley asked cluelessly.  
    "Bloody..." Harmony tackled Spike. "Go _away_ Harm. He an' I are on a mission, bugger all."  
    "You? And Pookie? Working together?" Harmony giggled. "Wow."  
    "Shut up," Spike clamped a hand over her mouth. "Quiet. Don' talk and you can follow us."  
    Harmony nodded and Spike released her. "I saw this big demon guy back there. He was walking with an older guy with old clothes?"  
    Riley and Spike stopped walking back to the main drag, exchanging glances. "What did the demon call the guy?" Riley asked tentatively.  
    "Holes...or Hutz...or something..." Harmony trailed off.  
    "Holtz?" Spike suggested.  
    "Yeah!"  
    "Find him."  
    Harmony led the way back to where she'd last seen the two. Spike sniffed out Holtz's scent like a dog and took them down that direction.  
    "They split up here..." Spike glared at the split tunnel. "The demon went that way. Holtz went this way."  
    "What do we do, Spikey?" Harmony whispered.  
    Spike unslung the axe from his back and handed it to Harmony. "I'll follow Holtz's trail. You two follow the demon."  
    They nodded. Riley started down the tunnel where the demon went and Harmony caught Spike's arm as he started towards Holtz. "Be careful, Spike. Don't get dusted."  
    Spike nodded. "You too. Take care o' Riley."  
    Harmony nodded and caught up with Riley, sticking to the scent she'd picked up as the demon's. Her ears picked up even the faintest noise. "Riley," she hissed. "We're getting closer, I think." She reached out and grabbed Riley's hand. She gulped and suddenly froze. "I'm sorry I'm a pest."  
    "Harm, shush," Riley advised. "You're not going to die."  
    "If it comes down to a fight, I want you to back and find spike and stay with him. I'm strong than you are," Harmony gave him a half-smile. "I know everyone thinks Harmony is just a harm, a pain in everyone's ass, the bubbly ever-cheery airhead." Harmony shook her head. "I get it now. I can't just look out for myself. I have to look out for myself. I have to look out for my sire, and for you, and for Angel and Cordelia and Connor." Harmony looked the Iowa-raised commando in the eyes. "I remember what it's like to have a soul. I remember that it made everyone look out for everyone else, even if you hated them. I remember what it felt like. And Riley, I don't want anyone to die. I'm looking out for everyone."  
    "Dammit, Harm," he grabbed her shoulders. "You're not going to die! We're just investigating!"  
    Harmony's lips found his then.  
    After a moment or two, she backed away. "Okay, let's go."  
    They trekked farther down the sewage to come out at a dry creek bed running through the back of one of the rows of estates. The sewage tunnel had dried and it was obvious it was used frequently as a passageway.  
    A clock stuck midnight in someone's house nearby.  
    "Happy Valentine's Day, Riley."  
    "Happy Valentine's Day, Harm."  
  
    Spike stuck to the shadows, creeping quietly and using every predatory skill he had left. He knew Holtz was nearby, he could hear voices. One of them belonged to Holtz, of that he was sure. Suddenly, another scent hit him...the demon's. He should've known--Harmony had given them away so the demon had gone off in one direction, then used a spell or something to rejoin Holtz, figuring that Harm and Riley and himself would go demon-chasing. After all, it was no secret Spike was at the very least _associated_ with Angel Investigations.  
    So Spike crept carefully closer, now hearing snippets of the conversations:  
    "...Angelus...servant..."  
    "...soul, you fool."  
    "Child...it?"  
    "...Kill...it..."  
    Spike saw red. Kill the child? He choked back a growl. Instead he treaded closer.  
    "...no use...child..."  
    "...and Justine?"  
    "...services required. She's...army."  
    "I preserved you," Spike got closer. "So you could eradicated Angelus. We've been over this, Holtz."  
    "I've told you. I've got my plans. Darla's gone now, sadly, so I cannot take my time in getting pleasure from torturing _her_."  
    "What about Justine?"  
    "I just explained. I need her as my right-hand general in my army."  
    "Army? I _gave_ you your army, but you went and killed them all."  
    "All I need is fire-power."  
    The demon, exasperated, groaned.  
    Suddenly, the cement under Spike's feet changed. He arrived at a staircase, with a tunnel leading right and left. A cast iron door to the left had a window that looked like it belonged in a prison. An orange flow from torches along the walls illuminated the hallway. Footsteps were coming from the opposite direction from the door where the voices were coming from. Whatever it was coming smelled human.  
    Spike ducked back into the shadows and watched a girl filled with rage and who had orange hair walk into a the room with the demon and Holtz.  
    "Justine." Holtz, Spike decided.  
    "Boss. When are we gettin' down to business?" That was Justine.  
    "Have you found me any soldiers?" Holtz again.  
    "By the way, what kind of soldiers are you looking for, Holtz?" the demon asked.  
    "Humans. Ones who have been affected like Justine and I."  
    "Yeah, I have two people. Isobel del Gado and Monique la'Reaux."  
    Isobel? Spike's _friend_, Isobel?  
    "Some dumb nutso vamp by the name of Spike confessed about a whole buncha stuff to del Gado. He works for Angel, and he'll confess some of Angel's weak spots."  
    Spike fought back a snort. _That's what _you_ think, lady._ Then he realized how attached he'd grown to Angel and the others.  
    He realized also that he should probably go now. As he went back, he made a mental map of the sewer, and as he reached the cross-section where he and the other members of his group parted ways, he followed their trail--he didn't even have to use anything but his eyes. He came out from the sewer entrance and followed Riley's and Harmony's foot steps into a secluded little park in the back of the estates.  
    He followed the fresh footprints and froze at the sound of heavy breathing.  
    ...Oh god. He could the pheromones in the air. He shuddered, recognizing Harmony's pheromones and then...the other male pheromones triggered his memory from somewhere...a year ago? A year and a half? No, two years ago. Riley. They were Riley's pheromones. Memories of Buffy flooded his mind as the clock in the house struck two a.m. He racked his mind for a moment and came to the conclusion that Buffy and the others would still be at the Magic Box for another half-hour. If he hurried, Spike could make it back to the Hyperion in fifteen minutes. He could only hope that they hadn't gone home early for the Valentine's Day issue.  
    Spike ran as fast as his booted feet could carry him, arriving at the hotel at 2:17 a.m. He was cutting it close.  
    He ran past Lorne and Cordelia to the telephone, picking it up. The clock turned to 2:18.  
    He dialed the numbers as quickly as his fingers could move, his desire to hear her voice winning out over his resolution of giving up Buffy for good.  
    It rang once.  
    Twice.  
    Three times.  
    Four times...  
    "Thank you for calling the Magic Box. Our hours are rather over, as they are from seven a.m. to seven p.m. If this message is urgent, please push the pound key to be put through to the shop. If Anya or I am still here, we will answer the telephone. Push the star key t--"  
    "Sorry, Giles," Spike muttered, having pushed the pound key. 2:21 a.m.  
    It rang once.  
    Twice.  
    Three.  
    Four.  
    Five.  
    Spike was just about to hang up when the telephone on the other end was answered.  
    "Hello?"  
    "Buffy..."  
    "...Oh my god."  
  
    Both of them just stood on the phone with each other, either knowing exactly what to say. Spike resisted the urge to blurt out just how much he missed her and racked his mind for a neutral subject to comment on.  
    "How's the slayin' going, luv?" he asked.  
    "Okay. Same old ick, monster of the week, Dawn getting in trouble on Tuesdays thing," Buffy told him. If he wasn't mistaken, she was..._nervous_. She was babbling. Either that or she was trying to get him off the phone.  
    "Speaking of the Bit, how is she?" Spike asked curiously.  
    "She's, ah...okay. Her arm's all healed now," Buffy sighed. As an after-thought, she tacked on, "She misses you."  
    "Do you miss me?" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.  
    There was silence.  
    Then, a faint whisper.  
    "Yes."  
    If Spike's heart could beat, it would've stopped and he'd have died all over again.  
    "I miss you too."  
  
    The following afternoon, Spike woke around four p.m. from a pleasant dream...about Buffy. He chipperly made himself look decent and literally skipped down the stairs. "Good afternoon, pet," he grinned at Fred, then proceeded to walk over and give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Pleasant day, sweetie," he hugged Cordelia and picked up Connor. "Hewwo, widdle man," he kissed the baby's forehead and put him back down. "Hey mates!" he clapped Wesley and Gunn on their respective backs. "Lizard Boy," he did the high-fivey thing with Lorne. "Where's the man of the hour?"  
    "Napping," Cordelia replied. "He's due up in a few."  
    "S'all bloody right. Where's Riley?" Spike wondered.  
    "Don't know," Cordelia shrugged.  
    Riley walked in the door on cue and held it open, pulling someone in under a smoking blanket inside.  
    "Thank you, pookie," she smiled at him and took off the blanket.  
    Cordelia's jaw dropped to the floor as Riley checked her for any bad burns.  
    Spike did a quick body count: Cordelia, Connor, Lorne, Fred, Gunn, Wesley, Riley, Harmony, and himself. Angel would be joining them, making a grand total of ten humans and demons in the room. He looked at everyone contemplatively. The Angel Investigations crew had grown quite a lot since he'd last seen them. The Doyle boy had died, Wesley had joined the team, as did Gunn and Fred and himself and it looked like Riley had joined too. Spike never thought he'd be on the same team as _Riley_, but the boy had shaped up and grown up since he'd last spoken with him in Sunnydale. Not to mention they'd made a wordless truce that day.  
    But Spike was still having trouble grasping exactly why Riley felt drawn to Harmony, his childe.  
    You didn't think he just picked her up off the street, did you? He found her walking around a couple of days before Harmony had revealed he and she were there looking for the Ring of Amarra. And he'd changed her because he was hurting about Drusilla.  
    "Happy Valentine's Day," Angel announced to everyone, then walked over and wrapped his arms around Cordelia's waist from behind. "Happy Valentine's to you too," he murmured, kissing her neck and producing a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. Gunn, at this display of affection, pulled Fred into his arms and settled her back against his chest and her head against his shoulder. Lorne, Wesley, and Spike banded together as the final couple in the room decided they were going to be lovey-dovey.  
    "Why, Angel, I didn' know you cared," Spike mocked him in a feminine voice.  
    "Hush up," Angel glared at Spike.  
    "Let's go celebrate my twenty-second day here, mates," Spike suggested to Lorne and Wesley.  
    "Sounds good to me, Drac," Lorne agreed.  
    "I'll join you as well," Wesley nodded.  
    "Hey, Spike, the only place you're going is with me and Cordelia," Angel told the blond vampire.  
    "Whoa you two, I'm no' into tha'," Spike smirked to himself.  
    "Remind me why we're helping him, Angel," Cordelia sighed.  
    "Try Sunnydale, Spike. Let's go," Angel tilted his head towards the door.  
    "How about no?" Spike replied. "I'm no' going to Sunnydale on Valentine's Day."  
    "Not even if it's to let me help you like you wanted?" Angel arched an eyebrow.  
    Spike laughed embarrassedly. "Sorry, fellas," he clapped both Lorne and Wesley on the back, then turned and rubbed his hands together ambitiously. "So, when do we leave?"  



	8. Sunnydale II: 7/His Triumphant Return

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Sunnydale II  
**Part**: 8/His Triumphant Return  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy. "Unknown" belongs to Lifehouse.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: This part is rated PG-13.  
**Pairings**: Angel/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Take a Stab At It, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Riley/Harmony  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ His Triumphant Return ~*~  
  
_This doubt is screaming in my face  
In this familiar place_  
  
    Spike pulled around the perimeter of his cemetery. His crypt was hidden enough to conceal himself.  
  
_Sheltered and concealed_  
  
    His hands controlled the steering wheel on their own, pulling onto Revello Drive and having somehow lost Angel and Cordelia in the process. As soon as he realized where he was, he pulled out of the street and out back to where he'd lost Angel and Cordelia. Luckily, they pulled over and waited for him to catch up as soon as they realized he wasn't following them anymore. It fascinated Spike how Angel still remembered his way around the Hellmouth, but then again, he amended, the vampire had been living in Sunnydale for three years before he moved away. Spike smirked, taking comfort in the fact that he'd been around the Slayer more than Angel had, no matter how little the comfort. He'd stuck around for a year, then disappeared for a year, then came back and spent the last two and a quarter here. Collectively he'd spent more time in Sunnydale than Angel had. _He_ should be leading _them_ around.  
    He glanced at every passing car, checking to see if it was one of the Scoobies. Then he realized he'd only ever seen Xander's car and Giles's car. It seemed none of the others knew how to drive. The way he saw things, everyone had been too busy to take the classes except for Xander with the Slayer stuff. It didn't help that Angelus came back and that he and Dru had come to kill her. Well, _he'd_ come to kill the Slayer. Dru came to recuperate...for the first few weeks.  
  
_And if this night won't let me rest  
Don't let me second guess  
What I know to be real_  
  
    Spike was nervous as hell, despite having just talked to Buffy that morning. The trio had just arrived in Sunnydale, having stopped for meals for Cordy and making pit stops to call Lorne and Fred and Riley and Harmony and Wesley and Gunn to check on the baby. Suddenly, Angel and Cordelia pulled over again. Spike, concerned for his new pals, pulled over as well and hopped out, seeing Cordelia grip her head in pain.  
    "Ow," Cordelia hissed as Spike came over. "A...a girl...a teenager...near...the Magic Box? Attacked by...oh my god it's Dawn..."  
    Spike was back in his DeSoto quicker than anything and took off to the Magic Box. He'd save Dawn. He wouldn't let Dawn be taken from Buffy. Never, never would he let Buffy down like that.  
  
_Put away all I know for tonight  
And maybe I just might  
Learn to let it go  
Take my security from me  
And maybe finally  
I won't have to know everything_  
  
    Spike didn't even bother to park the car or turn it off. He simply launched himself from the driver's side of the DeSoto and heard Dawn scream. He dove into the alley next to the Magic Box, tackling whatever big nasty was deciding to pray on his Li'l Bit. He didn't even know who or what it was, just that he landed on the thing's stomach. He punched whatever it was a few times before realizing it was human...or partly human.  
    "Dude, get off!" the captive struggled underneath him.  
    Spike glanced at Dawn, "Bit?"  
    "...Spike, he's human," Dawn cocked her head at the peroxide-blond vampire.  
    Spike looked down at his captive. "You _smell_ human all righ'. You _look_ human. Bu' why would Cordy get a vision about _you_?"  
    The boy's face morphed into something ugly and green.  
    "Bingo!" Spike cried gleefully, proceeding to pull out a knife and chop the thing's head off. He rose as the remainders of the demon boy hissed and evaporated. He looked at Dawn, and she looked at Spike. She smiled. Spike grinned and held his arms out to her, to which she rushed into and hugged him. "Hey Bit. Missed you."  
    "Missed you too, Spike," she hugged him tight. "Buffy's going to be _so_ psyched!"  
    "I dunno," Spike put an arm around the girl's shoulders and she put an arm around his waist, a friendly gesture they'd developed just before Spike left. He walked out into the street with her, "Ge' in. I need t' park."  
    Dawn hopped in happily. "When'd you get here?"  
    "Jus' now," Spike pulled his car into a shadowed parking space and turned off the car. Then he sat there.  
    Dawn looked at him oddly. "Spike? You okay? You look like you're gonna barf or something."  
    Spike cracked a smile. "I feel like I'm gonna 'barf or something'."  
    "Ha ha," Dawn rolled her eyes. "Get real. What are you afraid of? Buffy? Xander? God, please tell me you're not afraid of Xander. Xander's like... he's Xander. Xander's a non-scary thing."  
    Spike chuckled lightly. "No' afraid of the whelp. More afraid of big sis."  
    "Oh puh-leeze, Spike! She's gonna be so psyched that you're back!" Dawn rolled her eyes again.  
    "No, she's no' gonna be psyched tha' I'm back. I can tell you wha' she's gonna do. She'll look a' me, an' she'll say, 'Wha' are _you_ doin' back? Why are you here now?'," Spike sighed.  
    "Not true, Spike. C'mon, you have butterflies for nothing," Dawn got out of the car and went over to the driver's side, opening the door. "Get up and let's go inside."  
    Spike looked at the steering wheel, then up at Dawn as he heard another car pull into the parking lot. He visibly relaxed. "Okay. Le's go," he took the hand Dawn offered and let go, putting his arm around her shoulders as soon as he was standing. He walked over to Angel and Cordelia. "Hey you two. Lookie who I saved."  
    "Dawn," Angel nodded, flinching slightly at the icy glare Dawn gave him.  
    "Hi Dawn," Cordelia smiled.  
    "Hi Cordelia," Dawn nodded. She looked up at Spike. "Let's go inside. Please. Now, preferably. Before another big nasty comes here?"  
    "Righ', righ', going inside," Spike turned and walked to the door of the Magic Box with her, Angel and Cordelia following.  
    "Buffy! Look! Look who's back!" Dawn cried, pulling Spike inside. Buffy looked up.  
    Her eyes went wide. "Angel?"  
    Spike felt the floor split open and swallow him. The knife that had been hovering above his heart plunged into his chest.  
    Buffy came over and gave Angel a hug. "Hey. Haven't seen you in forever. How's things? Hi Cordelia."  
    The knife twisted 360 degrees.  
    "We came with Spike," Angel told her. "See? Spike. With us. Us. With Spike."  
    "Oh hi Spike," Buffy looked back at Angel and Cordelia. "How's everyone in L.A.?"  
    And the knife kept turning and turning.  
    "Thanks for askin' Buffy, I've been fine," Spike muttered under his breath, walking over to the table where Willow, Xander, and Anya were sitting, pulling Dawn with him. "Any of you lot have a bottle of anything alcoholically potent?"  
    "Sorry," Willow gave him a sympathetic smile. "How've you been?"  
    "No' tha' great," Spike sighed and sat down. "You?"  
    "I've been better," Willow sighed.  
    "Wha' about you, Xander? How's the weddin' comin' along?" Spike asked curiously.  
    Xander, startled, fumbled with his words for a moment before answering, "I'm fine. So is Anya. The wedding's moving along pretty good, we sent out invitations last week."  
    Spike nodded. "Am I invited?"  
    Xander shrugged. "Did we invite him, An?"  
    "Of course we did," Anya nodded. "He's one of us, right? Of course he was invited."  
    Spike gave her a winning smile. "Thanks, Anya."  
    Anya returned the smile, "Sure."  
    Buffy was heralded over to the table the others sat around by Angel and Cordelia. The couple wedged themselves between Spike and Willow, so the seating arrangement came out to be: Spike, Cordelia, Angel, Willow, Xander, Anya, empty seat, Dawn, and back to Spike.  
    "What are you doing here, Spike?" Buffy asked.  
    "I've been having a grand ol' time in L.A., found this nice club called Y Seres. And I'm doin' good, thank you for askin'," Spike answered instead.  
    "Well why didn't you stay in L.A.?" Buffy looked at him as icily as she could manage.  
    "Tha's a good question. Angel, I'll let you field this one," Spike put his arm around Dawn's shoulders and Cordelia's shoulders on the other side of him.  
    "Wait wait wait...why are you two getting along?" Buffy asked confusedly, sitting down in the empty seat.  
    "We have..." Angel started contemplatively.  
    "...an understanding," Spike finished.  
    Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Spike's really good with kids, Angel needed a babysitter. That's their understanding."  
    "You're so blunt," Angel rolled his eyes and nudged his seer with his elbow.  
    She wrinkled her nose and elbowed him back. "You males are always beating around the bush."  
    "Leave it t' Queen C t' fill in the blank," Spike said sarcastically.  
    "_You_ are one to talk," Cordelia smacked him upside the head.  
    "...So you three are like...a team?" Buffy frowned.  
    "No' jus' us, luv. Me, Queen C, Peaches, Captain Cardboard, Fred, Gunn, Pryce, Lizard Boy, and Harm," Spike shrugged.  
    Buffy choked. "_Riley_?!"  
    "I did say 'Captain Cardboard' didn' I?" Spike blinked.  
    "You, Angel, Cordelia, Riley, Fred, Gunn, Wesley, 'Lizard Boy', and _Harmony_ are a _team_?" Buffy was having trouble comprehending this.  
    "Yup," Spike nodded.  
    "Oh boy..."  
  
    "Home sweet crypt," Spike murmured, slinging down his duffel bag and looking around. He saw that someone had made themself comfortable in his former home. "Hey, buddy."  
    The vampire looked up and saw him. He snorted. "You mind?"  
    "Yes, I do, actually," Spike shrugged. "So kind of you t' ask. Unfortunately I'm no' gonna be so generous--ge' out."  
    "Why? So the Slayer's lap dog can come crawling home?" the vamp rose and dove at Spike, who simply moved to the side and watched as the fledgling slid out the door.  
    "Tha's exactly right. Bravo," Spike planted his heavy booted foot on the young vamp's chest, whipping out a stake. "Bye bye," he staked the vamp and shook his head, going back inside. He shut the door and turned around...to find five more vampires had made themselves at home here. "Bloody hell! I'm gone for wha', less than a month, and a whole _brigade_ of friggin fledglings decide to nest themselves in my digs!"  
    One of them dove at him, and he ducked. He stood back up, face-to-face with a particularly nasty-looking vamp. Spike's fist shot out and planted itself right between the vamp's eyes the same time as the vamp who had dove at him swept his feet out from under him. Spike fell to the ground, but his hands shot out and grabbed the ankles of the two who had been on him. One of the remaining three jumped on him so he rolled over, subduing that one and staking him. He tucked and somersaulted into one of the vamps he'd knocked down, successfully staking this one.  
    The three remaining vamps all advanced on him at the same moment, jumping on him like a pack of synchronized acrobats. One grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground, one grabbed his legs and twisted them, and the other grabbed his midsection, forcing Spike onto his stomach.  
    Spike managed to worm his arms out of the vamp holding his middle's arms, shoving the one holding his head away and into the wall. He turned over, sat up, and staked the vamp that was on his stomach, then kicked the one holding his legs's chin. He grabbed this vamp's head and gave it a violent jerk, snapping his neck and promptly dusting it.  
    "Why don' you jus' run along, mate," Spike suggested, advancing towards the vamp cowering by the door. "Before I get _really_ angry."  
    The vamp just sat there in terror, looking up at Spike. "Y-you..."  
    "Bloody _hell_," he ranted. "Why does _everyone_ greet me like that?!" In his irritability, Spike proceeded to dust the vamp. He looked at his floor at the remains of the five vampires he'd just beat single handedly and groaned, reaching back to rub his head. He winced as soon as his cold fingers touched the wound on the back of his head where the vamp had slammed his head into the floor and looked at his fingers.  
    Blood.  
    Spike sighed, knowing this was going to be a long stay.  
  
    As soon as the sun disappeared into the horizon, Spike left his crypt and took himself down to Buffy's house. Instead of knocking and waiting for someone to answer the door, Spike simply knocked on the door and let himself in. "Honey, I'm home!" he called light-heartedly.  
    He hadn't felt so good in ages. In fact, he hadn't felt so good since he killed that Slayer back in the '70s. Life--unlife, Spike amended, was good. So he joyfully made his way into the living room...     ...to find Angel and Buffy on the couch, Buffy snuggled up to him.  
    Spike had to remind himself that Angel loved _Cordelia_, and not Buffy, before he could say anything.  
    "So, how're things, luv?" Spike squished in next to Angel and Buffy.  
    "I'd really better go," Angel said. He rose and patted Buffy on the head. "Remember what I said, okay?"  
    "I'll remember," Buffy rolled her eyes. "Bye, Angel."  
    "Bye," Angel left.  
    _Score!_ Spike had a little party in his head. Why was he so giddy?  
    "Hey luv," Spike smiled. "Wha' are we watchin'?"  
    "_We_ aren't watching anything," Buffy muttered.  
    "Dammit, Buffy," Spike threw his arms up and rose again. "Wha' the _bleeding hell_ do you _want_ from me?!"  
    "Keep your voice down," Buffy hissed. "I don't want to wake up Dawn. She came home early from school today, she wasn't feeling well."  
    Spike lowered his voice, but felt his face morph into his vampiric visage, not being able to rein the demon in without being able to yell. "You fight with me, verbal and physical, you tell me you ha'e me, we ge' pu' under a bloody spell tha' makes us fall in love, you _bloody team up_ with me three bloody times, you shag me, and _then_ you have the bloody stones to tell me that there's no _we_!" During his tirade, Spike's face had melted back into its human planes, but his voice had risen. "You even bloody tell me tha' nearly a month ago, so I leave--and then, and _then_ two nights ago you tell me that you _miss_ me so I _come back_!"  
    Buffy stared at him. How dare he say those things to her! "You know very well none of that is true! Okay, yeah, I missed you, but only because you're a good help sometimes--_sometimes_ on patrol!"  
    "And because you're _depraved_," Spike snarled under his breath.  
    Buffy slapped him. "Get out. Get _out_ Spike!"  
    Spike stared at her for a moment, then grabbed her waist and kissed her brutally. He then released her and stormed out of the house.  
  
    Buffy stormed into Spike's crypt. "Okay. You know what? I'm really tired of this. We start to fight, we get our adrenaline pumping, and then--nothing. _Nothing_. So, I'm telling you now. Be my sparring partner."  
    Spike looked at her hard for a moment. "Nope."  
    Buffy narrowed her eyes. "No?"  
    "Yes."  
    "Make up your mind."  
    Buffy punched Spike's forehead, which the peroxide blond retaliated with by sweeping her feet out from under her. She flipped herself up right, faked a right-handed jab at her partner's face, but Spike caught it and barely moved in time to dodge the left hook she followed it with. It clipped the side of his cheek. Spike decided that in order to fight to his best, he'd have to let his inner "grr" out again.  
    And so he did.  
    But it didn't stay out long, as he could never keep his demon out when he was around Buffy, at least not for too long. Everything seemed to slow down just a little while Spike was watching Buffy's funny little movements that would give away her next move. She kicked him in the stomach, but before she kicked, she had moved her fists just slightly, and tilted her shoulders so her left shoulder was slightly lower than the other, and vice versa for a kick from the other leg. Her right shoulder tended to move forward just a little before she punched with either fist, and she looked at where she was going to kick you if she was going to jump in the air and do a flying kick.  
    This was how Spike managed to dodge around back of her and elbow the small of her back. She rolled forward, jumping up and turning around to face him. She watched him for his next move, and Spike knew she was doing the same thing he'd been doing a moment ago. May as well give her a run for her money.  
    Spike planted his boot squarely on her cheek, knocking her to the left slightly, but she reached up and grabbed his foot as it was falling. She gave it a good twist, but as she did, he jumped and knocked her head with his other foot. He dodged behind her and grabbed her in a headlock, taking the fight outside with no desire to ruin his perfectly good crypt. He released her and gave her a good shove, to which she replied with a flip. She faced him again and put up her hands in a fighting stance.  
    "Come on, Big Boy, bring it on," Buffy challenged.  
    "You sure?" Spike taunted, hopping a little closer.  
    "Give me all you've got," she hopped closer as well.  
    Spike gave a roundhouse kick followed by a down kick, making Buffy stumble a little closer to the ground than she liked. Spike then kneed her chin--but not too hard, didn't want to knock any teeth out--and kicked her behind. She flew over, landing on her back without enough time to tuck and roll. Spike sat on her stomach and smirked at her.  
    "Do you give?" he asked, pinning her arms to the ground and lowering his mouth closer to her.  
    "Give what?" Buffy panted, watching his eyes and his lips.  
    "Give up," he lowered his mouth to her neck, kissing it tenderly. And then kissing it tenderly again, "To me?"  
    "Never," she murmured as he kissed her throat.  
    "Are you sure?" he kissed her jaw.  
    "No," she claimed his lips with her own, and the world around them spun and shattered.  
  
    Cordelia jumped up and ran to Angel as soon as he entered the Magic Box. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, kissing him soundly. He returned it just as passionately, as the rest of the occupants of the shop stared at them. "I missed you," Cordelia murmured as soon as the kiss was broken. "I don't like having to hide this from your ex."  
    "Neither do I," he kissed her again. "But she's so fragile right now. I don't want to break her heart and leave Spike to pick up the pieces."  
    "Though, not a bad idea. I mean, that's why we're here, right?" Cordelia kissed him and unwrapped her legs from his waist. Angel gently set her down.  
    "Somebody mind explaining what I just saw?" Xander asked of the group.  
    "I think we just saw Angel and Cordelia...kiss," Willow said cautiously.  
    "I know this has nothing to do with what we are discussing," Anya said, "but who's watching Dawn right now?"  
    A look of sadness flittered across Willow's face, "Tara."  
    "I understand," Anya nodded and turned to Angel and Cordelia. "So, have you two fornicated yet?"  
    Xander's face twitched and buried his head in Willow's shoulder, "Wake me when it's my wedding day..."  
    Willow patted Xander's head, "Poor Xander."  
    Cordelia wrapped her arms around Angel and rested her head on his chest. "I don't think it's any of your business, Anya. But remember the pesky curse?"   
    Angel whispered something to Cordy then.  
    "You _what_?!" Cordelia smacked his chest. "You...didn't tell me! Why not?!"  
    Angel kissed her forehead, "Because I didn't know whether you loved me or not...I didn't want to jinx it either."  
    "Jinx my ass," Cordelia muttered, settling herself back where she was.  
    "What was that all about?" Anya asked, ever the blunt one.  
    "Oh the Powers," Cordelia sighed. "I don't know whether to love those guys or ha--owwwwwwww!"  
    Angel held her up as she almost collapsed in his arms. He waited for her to announce the vision, but nothing came. "Cordy? Cordy?!"  
    "I...I'm okay," she panted, digging her nails into his arms and finding the ground again. "Sorry. Powers were a bit late with that vision...it's been taken care of. I saw it." A lie, but they didn't need to know that.  
    Angel studied her for a moment, recognizing her lie the moment she started spewing it. "Are you sure?"  
    "Positive," Cordelia looked at the others then back at Angel, and knew that he knew that she was lying. She whispered, "Tell you later," and then looked back at the others. "Aspirin? Glass of water? _Something_? Haven't any of you people ever seen me have a vision?"  
    "You don't have to be a bitch," Anya announced. She got a water bottle out of the pack she kept now that Giles had left under the counter. She tossed it over, nearly hitting Cordelia in the head with it. However, Angel caught it and managed to open it one-handed. He even held it like a bottle for Cordelia to drink from.  
    "Thank you," Cordelia smiled at him, then stood up straight.  
    "Where's Buffy? Is she due back soon?" Angel asked of everyone.  
    "She's...not here. I think she said something about patrol and Spike," Willow shrugged. "Weren't you the last one to see her?"  
    "Yeah. Spike came over and I left," Angel informed them. "By the way, do you mind if I use the phone? I want to call and check on Connor."  
    "Connor," Cordelia pouted. "I miss him."  
    "Who's Connor? Why is Xander always the last to know?" Xander asked pitifully.  
    "Connor's Angel's son," Cordelia explained. "Practically my surrogate son. He's Angel's and Darla's though."  
    Willow's eyes went wide. "Darla?"  
    "Yup. But...she staked herself, right Angel?" Cordelia arched an eyebrow.  
    Angel came down off the high he'd been on after kissing Cordelia, "Yeah." He picked up the Magic Box's telephone and punched the numbers to the hotel in.   
    :Hello, Angel Investigations, how may we help you?: Wesley answered the phone.  
    "Wesley, hi. It's me," Angel replied. "Who's got the baby?"  
    :I'm not sure at the moment. Fred perhaps,: Wesley confessed.  
    "What? You don't know where my baby is?" Angel glared at nothing.  
    :No, I know where Connor is. He's right here. I just wasn't certain if it was Lorne or Fred who had him,: Wesley corrected himself.  
    "Well, where are Gunn, Riley, and Harmony?" Angel inquired, leaning against the counter, frowning.  
    :Out taking care of business,: Wesley sighed. :Really Angel, you must calm down.:  
    "Sorry Wesley, my mistake," Angel rubbed his forehead. "So how is he?"  
    :He's fine. How is Sunnydale?:  
    "A Hellmouth, like always."  
    :May I speak with Cordelia?:  
    "Yeah," Angel covered the mouth piece, "Cordy, Wesley wants to talk to you."  
    Cordelia took the phone. "Hey."  
    :Have you had any visions?:  
    "Yes."  
    :Have you taken the medication?:  
    "No."  
    :I see. Lorne says "hello".:  
    "Tell him I said hi too. In fact, tell everyone I said hi."  
    Connor started crying in the background.  
    "Oh, Connor...put him up to the receiver, Wes." She waited until she could hear Connor clearly, "Hello Connor."  
    Everyone except Angel stared at her.  
  
    "What did we just do?" Buffy asked, her head settled on Spike's bare shoulder. They were both clothes-less and in the grass outside Spike's crypt.  
    "I could go through a play-by-play but..." Spike got smacked for that.  
    "I gotta go. You--"  
    "Tell anyone and I will dust you. Go' it."  
    Buffy rolled her eyes, "Bye."  
    "Bitch," he muttered. 


	9. Sunnydale II: 8/Cordelia

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Sunnydale II  
**Part**: 9/Cordelia  
**Author**: Mickey the Wonder Pup (a.k.a Arashi)  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.   
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**:   
**Pairings**: Angel/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Take a Stab At It, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Riley/Harmony  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned. This chapter also turned out kinda weird...  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Cordelia ~*~  
  
    "Ungh...agh...grrrrr..."  
    "C'mon, pet, jus' a little farther..."  
    "Agh! I...I can't..."  
    "Yes you can, Cordy. Here."  
    "Ack! I'm gonna lose it!"  
    "Ow!"  
    "Oomph! Get your foot out of my stomach!"  
    "Moof yur arrm..."  
    "What was that?"  
    "Moof yur bluh'y arrhm!"  
    "'Move your bloody arm!'"  
    "Thanks, Angel."  
    Spike, Cordelia, and Angel all untangled themselves from one another. Unfortunately, they were victims of another Twister game gone awry. Cordelia's foot had slipped on the mat, and she'd fallen on her boyfriend and boy friend.  
    "Sorry guys," she apologized sheepishly. "I told you I was gonna fall."  
    "If Peaches 'ad moved 'is fat leg, maybe you'd've gotten there," Spike grinned wolfishly at his two companions and got smacked in the back of the head by Angel. "Ow."  
    "Yes, Peaches this, Poofter that," Angel rose and stretched, then helped his girlfriend up, stealing a kiss. "Well, I'm gonna go visit with Buffy, see what she and the rest of her friends are up too. Chances are she's patrolling, but I'm checking the house and the Magic Box first." He shrugged at Spike. "I'll see you around."  
    "Bye, Poofter," Spike waved. Then he turned to Cordelia, once Angel had left. "What'd he want me to do?"  
    Cordelia rubbed her temples, grabbing her jacket from off of the chair. "He wants you to go check the cemeteries and see if she's patrolling."  
    "Ooooooh," Spike nodded. Cordelia shoved his duster at him. "'ey..."  
    "Go. Leave," Cordelia propelled him out of the door.  
    "All righ', all righ', I'm going..." Spike shrugged his duster on and set off for the graveyards.  
    Cordelia sighed and gave Spike's crypt one last, sparing glance and set off her own direction.  
  
    Buffy stepped over the condensed remains of a particularly stupid young fledgling and continued her slow trot through the cemeteries. Her Slayer Sense tingled slightly in the back of her head, and she knew a vampire or demon was nearby--hence the Slayer Sense alarm--but she didn't know from where. "Marco!" she called.  
    The vampire jumped out at her from behind a nearby bush.  
    Buffy grabbed the vamp by the collar and rolled with it, stradling its waist. "You know, you're supposed to yell 'Polo!' so I can chase you," she informed the ignorant vampire. "But since you cheated, I have to do my job. I hope it was worth it," and she staked the vampire. She rose, dusting off her pants, and continued her lonely walk.  
    Again, the Slayer Sense went off. "God, what's wrong with all these vamps tonight?" she muttered under her breath. She whirled around, stake poised, as the vampire approached her.  
    He jumped back. "Whoa, Slayer, didn't come 'ere to go after you."  
    Buffy sighed and dropped her staking arm. "What do you want, Spike."  
    "Jus' thought, perhaps, maybe, you'd like a li'l company tonight," he suggested, trying not to sound lewd.  
    Buffy took it the wrong way. "No. I'm fine by myself tonight."  
    "I meant...I meant patrollin'," Spike motioned to the grass meekly. He couldn't believe he was doing this. But he and Angel had had a Talk earlier...  
    _"Spike, what have you been doing to push her away?"  
    "I haven' done anything to push her away."  
    "Well, what do you say to her?"  
    Spike then told Angel a few of the tamer comments he'd made to Buffy. Angel had sighed then. "What?"  
    "With Buffy, it's complicated. But you
_ don't _talk to her like that. That makes her stay away. Just...try being nicer. Like, instead of making a lewd comment, ask, 'Do you mind if I join you on patrol?' or 'Need a friend?'. Not, 'Hey, let's roll in the hay together' or 'I know you can't stay away.'"  
    "I have more tact than that, Peaches."  
    "Doesn't sound like it."
_  
    Then Cordelia had joined them for a game of Twister. "Listen, Slayer, I'm tryin' to be nice here. I promise I won't try anything."  
    Buffy narrowed her eyes, "You better not."  
    She started to walk away, and she'd gotten about five feet away before Spike realized he'd better join her. "So...any big nasties lately?"  
    "Just my job," Buffy answered.  
    Spike laughed lightly, "What's so bad abou' it?"  
    Buffy gave him an incredulous look. "It's fast food. DoubleMeat Palace. Yuck."  
    "I'm more of a Burger King fan myself," Spike nodded. "I've eaten at the DoubleMea' though, a coupla times, when I wanted somethin' warm."  
    Buffy just stared at him, falling silent. There was something about him that looked different since he came back from Los Angeles. He was more...he seemed more confident, if that was possible. And he seemed more flexible. He'd changed in LA. Someone, or something, had done this to him. But what? Done what to him? Made him more...human? More human, but more vampire...  
    She decided to ask. "Spike, did you meet someone in LA?"  
    "I met lotsa people in LA," he replied, not catching the subtext on 'someone'.  
    "No, I mean, did you _meet someone_ in LA," Buffy persisted, stressing the phrase.  
    Spike shook his head. "No. I didn'. Why do you ask? Are you j--" he stopped himself, _and_ the smirk creeping onto his features. "Are you just curious?"  
    "Well, you just seem...different," Buffy shrugged. A vampire jumped out at her again, and she raised her stake, resulting in the female vampire skewering herself on the wood.  
    "Different? Different how?" Spike asked, mildly curious.  
    "I don't know, you're just...human...but...more vampire," Buffy sighed. "It's hard to explain. It's almost like if I put my hand on your chest," she did so, right over his heart, "I'd expect it to be beating. But at the same time, it's like...it's like I'd expect you to drain me dry, but I know you--" she stopped, realizing she hadn't moved her hand and Spike was staring at her curiously. Something sparked in his ice blue eyes, something that made her impulses go haywire and totally wreck her wall of willpower.  
    So she did what her impulses told her too as she flexed her hand on his cool flesh. She stood taller and kissed him.  
  
    Angel rounded the corner around a tree and was about to call Buffy's name when he saw her and Spike making out in the grass. He just chuckled to himself and walked back to his car.  
  
    Cordelia joined Dawn, Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya at a table in the Bronze and tried to break the unnerving silence. After a few tries, however, she gave up, finding it futile to try. The tension between Xander and Anya's quiet arguing and the unspoken words hanging in the air between Willow and Tara, no one would even try to listen to Cordelia as she attempted conversation about mundane things. Dawn was watching Tara and Willow strangely, almost as if she was waiting for something to happen.  
    Dawn perked up at the song that suddenly came blaring from the speakers of the club. "Hey! Willow, Tara, why don't you two go out and dance! Xander and Anya and Cordy and I will all join you in a couple minutes. I want a drink and...and..." her eyes pleaded with Cordelia for help.  
    "I need to ask Xander and Anya's help in planning something for LA," Cordelia blurted. Willow and Tara exchanged looks and shrugged.  
    "A-all right..." Tara agreed, scooting out of the booth along with Willow and heading out on the dance floor.  
    Dawn sighed in relief. "I've been trying to get them out there all night!"  
    Cordelia smiled, "They're...cute together."  
    "Yeah, they are. Thanks, Cordy. I don't know how I'll repay you," Dawn sighed again. "They've been apart for too long."  
    Suddenly, Cordelia felt a blinding pain engulf her mind and slammed her forehead down on the table, biting her lip till it bled.  
    _Buffy whirled, stake in hand, and suddenly, a large, six-horned, twelve-eyed, three-armed demon grabbed her. Spike was thrown to the side and into a tree, where he burst into dust._  
    Cordelia finally opened her mouth, panting as her lungs screamed for oxygen. Dawn, Xander, and Anya looked at her oddly. "Cordy?" Xander asked. "Cordy, are you all right?"  
    "It's a...it's a vision," she said as loud as she could manage. "Water...water, please..."  
    Xander caught a waitress's arm, asking her for a glass of water, and turning back to his ex-girlfriend. He traded places with Dawn, concerned for the twenty-one-year-old woman. He rubbed her back soothingly as Anya tried not to seethe. "Here, here's your water," he took the water from the waitress and handed it to Cordelia's shaking hands. He rubbed her back as she drank it. "Better?"  
    Cordelia nodded, "Yeah. Better. Thank you, Xander."  
    "What was in your vision?" Dawn tilted her head to the side, curious.  
    "Nothing you guys need to be concerned about. Angel should be here in a few minutes, and I'll tell him. We still have some time," Cordelia took another gulp of the water and dug in her purse for a bottle of aspirin, coming up empty-handed. She looked at Anya imploringly, "You don't happen to have any aspirin, would you?"  
    "I don't think so," but Anya checked in her purse anyway. She found a bottle of Tylenol and set it on the table. "Will that help?"  
    "Maybe," Cordelia emptied some out in her hand and swallowed them dry. "Thanks."  
    Angel joined them then. "Hey guys, what's--"  
    "I need to talk to you," Cordelia motioned for Xander and Angel to get out of the booth so she could get out as well. Xander sat back down as Cordelia dragged him away, accidentally bumping Tara into Willow. That caused the two Wiccans to stare at each other for a moment before shrugging and dancing together, instead of two feet apart.  
    Cordelia explained what the vision told her and jumped into Angel's car with him outside of the Bronze. "What? I just saw them!" Angel frowned, starting up the convertible and pulling out of the parking lot. "I just saw them. They're making out."  
    "Well it looks like their date is about to be broken up by a six-horned, twelve-eyed, three-armed demon," Cordy answered. "And a couple of demon-fighting detectives."  
    Angel shook his head and smiled, tossing an arm around the girl of his dreams.  
  
    They arrived at the cemetery in record time. Angel and Cordelia sprang from the vehicle, he getting an axe and a broadsword from the trunk of the car, handing one of them to Cordelia, and then leading her to the clearing where he'd last seen Spike and Buffy. They arrived to find Spike and Buffy gone. Cordy frowned and looked up at Angel. "Are you sure this is where you left them?"  
    "Maybe they went back to his crypt..." Angel suggested, trailing off with a frown to match Cordelia's. He hurried towards Spike's crypt, more worried about hid grand-childe than he was about the Slayer.  
    "In which case they should be fine," Cordelia told him, stretching her legs to keep up with Angel's considerably longer strides.  
    "We'll just sit guard by the door for an hour or so and if nothing comes we'll leave," he replied. Cordelia just sighed. It only took them a few more minutes to reach Spike's crypt, where Cordelia stopped a few feet from the door. Angel kept walking for a couple of feet before he realized Cordelia wasn't beside him. He raised an eyebrow, "What's a matter?"  
    "Okay. Angel, I will follow you to the ends of the world, but I will _not_ go into the crypt and see if those two are playing Hide the Salami," Cordelia told him.  
    Angel sighed, "All right. You wait here and I'll check." He approached the door quietly, slowly edging open just enough for him to press his ear to a crack to listen for noises of the mattress mambo. Satisfied that they were, he closed the door and turned to tell Cordelia to sit down by the door.  
    Or, he would have, if Cordelia still stood where he left her.  
    "Cordy?" he called, frowning. "Cordy? Cordelia?! Cordelia!"  
    Angel took off, running around the cemetery, calling out his love's name, only to come up empty-handed. Angel's mind raced franctically, only barely processing the thought that he needed to tell someone. His feet started towards Spike's crypt, knowing that Buffy and Spike should be told that Cordelia had been kidnapped. They may know someone who would have the means and motive to take one of the Scoobies.  
    He threw the crypt door open. "Spike!" he yelled. "Buffy! Spike!"  
    The noises below suddenly halted. Spike let loose an impressive string of British curses, some even Angel couldn't identify, and surfaced. "Wha' the bloody 'ell do you _want_, Peaches? I'm kinda busy!"  
    "Cordy's missing," Angel said.  
    "Did you try the mall?" Spike asked, raising his eyebrows lazily.  
    "No, listen, Spike. She and I came over here because she had a vision and I wanted to help you guys out with the six-horned, twelve-eyed, three-armed demon that's supposed to kill you and I turned around and _she was gone_!" Angel panicked.  
    Spike heaved a great, burdened sigh and went back underground, surfacing with Buffy in tow. Buffy glared at Angel, "Tell anyone you saw me here..."  
    "And she'll stake you," Spike finished, fishing a shirt out of the pile of clothing in the corner. He tossed Buffy her shirt and held up the sheet she'd brought with her so she could change in modesty. Not that she had anything either vampire hadn't seen before. "So...Scooby meeting?"  
    Buffy nodded, "Scooby meeting."  
    Angel followed Buffy and Spike out of the crypt and hopped into his convertible, igniting the engine. Spike and Buffy pulled out onto the road in his DeSoto, and then led him to the Magic Box. Spike then dropped off Buffy there and drove to the Bronze, where Angel had said he'd last seen the rest of the gang.  
  
    Within forty-five minutes, the Scooby gang had assembled in the Magic Box and been told the story of Cordelia's kidnapping, leaving out the part that Buffy was at Spike's crypt. Then they formed into groups of two, with one three-legged group. Xander and Willow paired up, then Tara and Anya, then Buffy and Spike, with Angel leftover. Angel teamed himself up with Tara and Anya's group, seeing a weakness there with Tara's less than glorious magical prowess. "All right," Buffy announced. "Spike and I will go Warren, Andrew, and Jonathan's old lair and see if we can find any clues. Angel, Tara, and Anya will go to the bad side of town and search around there, and Xander and Anya will search the suburbs and stuff. Let's go!"  
    And they each went their separate ways.  
  
    Cordelia sat tied to a kitchen table chair with seisel rope binding her limbs together. She couldn't see anything because of the bandana tied around her eyes and she couldn't talk because of the gag tied around her mouth. Or was it tape? It tasted like cloth, but her lips were stiff. So maybe it was a gag _and_ tape. Her kidnappers must be professionals...  
    "Ow! Don't hit me with that!"  
    Cordelia recognized that voice.  
    "Rahmafim?"  
    Which translated into: "Jonathan?"  
    The noises in the background stopped. Then an obviously fake, deep voice said, "Who's Jonathan?"  
    Cordelia groaned. She'd been kidnapped by Jonathan. Great.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Well? How'd you like it? It's my first chapter in a while, and hopefully not the last for a while again. I know there's a lot of long-winded sentences in there, but I'm a little rusty, and the ideas are conveyed well enough I suppose. Hey look there's another one of those sentences...but anyway, lemme know what you thought...did it need more, did it need less...shorter sentences...whatever...C&C appreciated... 


	10. Interlude II: 9/Songs of the Past

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Interlude II  
**Part**: 9/Songs of the Past  
**Author**: Mickey the Wonder Pup (a.k.a Arashi)  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.   
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: PG-13  
**Pairings**: Angel/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Take a Stab At It, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Riley/Harmony  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned. I wrote this while on high on Cadbury eggs. You've been warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Songs of the Past ~*~  
  
    Lorne stood off to the side in the aisle of a large theatre (think "Waiting in the Wings"). In the front row of seats sat Fred and Riley. Lorne smiled and began to speak.  
    "Hello," he started walking along with the moving camera. "It has come to the attention of those of us at Angel Investigations that due to the complicated nature of Mickey the Wonder Pup's plotlines," Lorne paused to breathe, "not to mention he sudden attachment to long-winded active voice sentences, the story of 'Sun and Shadow' may be a teensy weensy little itty bit difficult to follow. We--meaning Fred, Riley, and I--have decided to catch you up on what happened from 'I Left My Heart In Sunnydale' to 'Riley'. Of course, it's not as good as if you go and read the parts, but anyway. After we explain, we'll go to Tara and Xander in Sunnydale for _their_ update."  
    Lorne finally say his scaly green behind in the plush theatre seat.  
    Fred then decided to speak. "Firstly, we'll roll a clip from part 00, 'I Left My Heart In Sunnydale.'"  
  
    _"What are you doing?" Buffy demanded, trying to keep her voice low.  
    Spike narrowed his eyes back at her. "Are we going anywhere, Summers?"  
    "
__We_ is nonexistant. There is no _we_," she told him harshly.  
    Spike threw his hands up. "Fine. Tell Li'l--" he shook his head. "Tell Dawn I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye."  
    Buffy frowned. "Spike?" she watched him walk away. "Spike?! Where are you going?"  
    "Out of your life, baby. You don't want me here? I'm gone!"  
  
    "In this part, Spike goes to see Buffy, where she spurns him for the last time," Riley explained. "So he decides to leave Sunnydale...for L.A."  
    "In part one, 'Connor's New Baby-sitter'," Fred said, "Angel offers Spike a place to stay because he's a good baby-sitter."  
  
_    "Can I see the li'l tyke?" Spike asked quietly, curiously, sincerely wanting to see the baby.  
    Angel sighed. "Might as well. Maybe you can make him stop crying." He handed Connor over to Spike carefully, knowing Spike couldn't hurt his child.  
    Spike took Connor with the gentlest of hands. Angel watched his grand-childe curiously, having never witnessed the tener side of Spike before. Or, hadn't cared to look for it. After all, last time he associated with Spike he was Angelus, and before that Spike wanted to kill the Slayer, his girlfriend.  
    "Hey there, kiddo," Spike said softly. Amazingly, Connor stopped crying. "Guess you're my my uncle now? Drusilla's brother, hm?"  

_   
    "Then we decided to show Spike the city's night life," Lorne continued.  
  
    _"You won't get to see Los Diablos then," Lorne piped up, having said nothing for the past few minutes.  
    "Los...Diablos?" Spike replied, to the Pylean. "Help me out here, mate, haven't brushed up on my espanol in a while."  
    "The City of Demons. The night life of the City of Angels, Los Angeles."  

_   
    "In part two, 'For Keeps', we found a club called El Demonios y Seres Humanos, fondly called Y Seres for short. Spike immediately took to it," Fred sighed. "Then Cordy had a vision."  
  
    _Suddenly, a scream ripped through El Demonios y Seres Humanos._  
  
    "We saved Angel and Connor from the demon," Lorne rolled that clip. "And Angel got his soul for keeps--hence the title."  
    "And then Cordy and Angel shared a kiss," Fred smiled.  
  
_    Angel, bewildered but not rejecting her advances, then asked, "What happened?"  
    "I had a vision that you," she kissed his forehead, "and Connor were killed by a demon. And we got here in time. Thank God," she kissed him full on the mouth, reassuring herself that he was there.
_  
  
    "Isn't that sweet," Riley commented dryly. "The next chapter, 'Five Words', was the first interlude of the story. It reviewed part of season four of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, then all of season five, and up to the eleventh episode of season six. In this one, Spike learns to swallow his pride and ask for help."  
  
_    "Peaches, I need your help."
_  
  
    "The next chapter is the halfway point of the first Los Angeles section," Lorne said. "It's called 'Not-Quite Mojo'. In this part, Fred becomes a scheming, conniving cohort of Spike's kooky plan to hook up Cordelia and Angel. In short, it works. Fred also finds love, but with Gunn."  
  
_    ...Spike emerged from the basement covered in slime. His chest heaved in mock breathing. "I...I 'ave it chained," he told them. He looked at Gunn and Fred. "You two didn't tell me you were an item."  
    Fred blushed but smiled, "We're not an item."  
    "Well hurry up and ge' to it," Spike instructed. "
__I'm_ goin' t' get me somethin' to eat."  
    And he "left" the room. "I think I shall go research that demon. See if it's a threat or not," Wesley backed out of the room.  
    Fred caught sight of Spike peering through the door at them. He winked at her and disappeared from the crack to go get himself something to eat. Fred looked up at Gunn, and was still in his arms. "C'mere, you big oaf," she smiled, tilting her head up as he lowered his mouth to hers.  
  
    Gunn walked through the threate then. He was nearly out of it when he back-pedalled and looked at Lorne, Fred, and Riley strangely. "Who are y'all talkin' too? And where the hell did this room come from?"  
    "We're talking to the audience," Fred motioned to the camera. "And...I don't know where this came from. But say 'hello', Charles."  
    "Hello, Charles," Gunn grinned wolfishly.  
    "Get out of here," Riley kicked the back of Gunn's leg ad the boy hurried off after a snarky comeback.  
    "Hey, an interlude within an interlude. We have talent," Lorne grinned. Fred wore a matching one and Riley rolled his eyes.  
    "This chapter seems to be most confusing," Fred rolled the title clip.  
  
    _ONE. GOOD. DAY._  
  
    "Notice the subtle lead-in with Spike's famous quote from the season five episode, 'Fool For Love'," Lorne pointed out. "In this one, it's a couple of days before Valentine's Day. Spike finds himself chipless after a drunken night apart from the group."  
    "All these parts have one central idea that they revolve around. It's not that hard to follow the events if you can identify the central theme or idea. Usually the title gives it away, like next chapter--'Riley'," Fred lectured.  
    "What?" Riley asked, looking up from his Gameboy.  
    Fred sighed. "Go back to playing."  
    "Well anyway," Lorne rolled his eyes as Riley really did go back to playing after offering them a shrug. "This is one of the better, longer chapters. Riley makes a cameo in this one and winds up joining the crew, bringing the Harbinger of Dimwitted and Chancey Destruction, the blond bombshell, Harmony."   
    "That's a little harsh," Riley gave Lorne a look that told him to back off of his girlfriend.  
    "Well, Riley brings information on Holtz, and we're able to infiltrate Holtz and Sahjhan's lair," Fred explained. "We don't find out much, but Cordy and Angel decide to take Spike to Sunnydale after Spike and Buffy have a rather sweet phone call."  
  
    _"How's the slayin' going, luv?" he asked.  
    "Okay. Same old ick, monster of the week, Dawn getting in trouble on Tuesdays thing," Buffy told him. If he wasn't mistaken, she was...
__nervous_. She was babbling. Either that or she was trying to get him off the phone.  
    "Speaking of the Bit, how is she?" Spike asked curiously.  
    "She's, ah...okay. Her arm's all healed now," Buffy sighed. As an after-thought, she tacked on, "She misses you."  
    "Do you miss me?" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.  
    There was silence.  
    Then, a faint whisper.  
    "Yes."  
    If Spike's heart could beat, it would've stopped and he'd have died all over again.  
    "I miss you too."  
  
    "Now, let's go to Tara and Xander in Sunnydale," Riley announced.  
  


*******

  
  
    Tara and Xander sat comfortably in the training room of the Magic Box. Tara gave a big smile. "In the first Sunnydale II part, Spike saves Dawn first thing. Then he re-identifies with Buffy and that's about it."  
    Xander nodded, "Remember the vision Cordelia had and told Angel she'd tell him about later? Well, that scene was cut from the final draft to make room for the ending 'Bitch Scene'. Fortunately, we've got ahold of this scene."  
  
    _Cordelia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That vision...it was about Spike."  
    "Spike?" Angel frowned. The girl in his arms cuddled closer. "What was it?"  
    "I'm not exactly sure. He was standing there with brown hair and glasses and in a brown suit, looking into a broken mirror and the new him was in the mirror. Buffy stood next to him, but her face was all bloody...and suddenly, someone who looked too much like Jonathan the nerd from high school came up behind him and Spike exploded into dust. Then Buffy wore a dress like the one she wore that one Halloween..."  
    Angel sat in quiet contemplation. "Looks like Spike may die..."  
    Cordelia shook her head, "I don't want him to die. He's a pain in the ass but I don't want him to die."  
    "Neither do I, Cordy. Neither do I."
_  
  
    "That was kinda spooky. And probably should've been left in that chapter. Unfortunately, due to time and effort and all that, it had to be cut. Quite frankly, I think it creeped everyone out too much," Xander shrugged. "But anyway. Thrill as this story goes nowhere and does nothing until the next part..."   
    "In 'Cordelia', the story picks up its pace. Or so we like to think. Willow and I are reunited, and Xander seems to push Anya further away," Tara said.   
    "Not to mention Buffy and the Bleached Blond Woner reaffirm their...antics. Then, the unimaginable happens...somebody decides to kidnap Cordelia," Xander added.  
    "Now if _that_ didn't sound like a commercial for a three-star movie, I don't know what does," Tara said and laughed. "Well, that's all for _this_ interlude."  
    "This has been Xander Harris, Tara Maclay, Krevlornswoth of the Deathwok Clan, Riley Finn, and Fred Burkle with Interlude II: Songs of the Past. Have a nice day!" Xander said in closing.  
  
_

(the Buffy theme plays in the background as the credits roll.)

_  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Special thanks to Sun-chan for this part. 


	11. Sunnydale II: 10/Oops We're In Trouble A...

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Sunnydale II  
**Part**: 10/Oops We're In Trouble Again  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.   
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: PG-13  
**Pairings**: Angel/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Take a Stab At It, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Riley/Harmony  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Oops We're in Trouble Again ~*~  
  
    Cordelia struggled against the bindings holding her to her chair. She hated this. She hated this almost more than she hated the lonely hours spent with her reflection on rainy summer afternoons in which she should be somewhere else. She'd tried communicating with Jonathan, but none of the three losers that had kidnapped her seemed to want to untie her or feed her. Or give her a drink. Or a tube of chapstick. Oh, she'd kill someone with one of her three-inch pumps for a tube of chapstick right then.  
    One of the losers--who had identified himself as Andrew--was particularly stupid and constantly referred to his accomplices by their names. She'd heard about this Warren guy who seemed to be the leader of their group from Angel, and Jonathan she knew from high school.  
    "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Cordelia screamed through the things covering her mouth. Her thigh had cramped up viciously. "OWWWWWWW! OWWWWW! OWWWWWWW..."  
    One of them came over and nervously touched the knot in her thigh. "Does that hurt?"  
    "Bessipherrhts!" Cordelia snapped.  
    "...What?" her visitor asked.  
    "Andrew, you idiot, of course it hurts her!" _that_ was Jonathan.  
    "Rahmafim! Rahmafim! Felphi!" Cordelia struggled against her bindings. "OWWwwwwwwwwwwwwww..."  
    "You _dorkwads_," Warren came over. "Don't just leave her mouth like that." Cordelia felt fingers on her face and growled. The only fingers she liked on her face were Angel's and hers. No other fingers allowed. "This'll hurt like a bitch for a little while." Cordelia felt the tape get ripped off her face and lips and yowled with pain. She felt the cloth gag fall from her mouth as well. "Now. How does it feel to be able to talk?"  
    "You are so gonna _die_!" Cordelia yelled at them. "You are going to die bloody, horrible deaths at the hands of _William the Bloody_ and _Angelus_!"  
    The trio chuckled, half-nervous and half-haughty. "Spike's harmless," Warren laughed. "I checked his chip and it works fine."  
    "And Angelus doesn't exist anymore," Andrew added.  
    "Jonathan!" Cordelia snapped in her best Queen Cordelia voice. She heard him move but then he was stopped by Warren and/or Andrew. "Jonathan, I'm telling you right no-owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" A vision slammed Cordelia so hard the chair knocked over. It was the vision of the ugly demon again. This was urgent. A repeat vision. Not only did Spike become non-existant anymore, Buffy did so as well. "You have to untie me! Buffy's in trouble! And I have to go tell my _boyfriend_!" Cordelia got her side and dug at a piece of fraying rope with her fingernails. Buffy was important to Angel, as was Spike. If they died...again... "Jonathan! Untie me _now_!"  
    Jonathan stumbled past his buddies.  
    "Jonathan, if you untie her..." Warren trailed off threateningly.   
    "I don't care! You guys, Buffy will _die_ if Cordelia doesn't tell Angel what she saw!" Jonathan cried. His conscience screamed at him to release Cordelia from her bindings, so he moved forward.  
    "Jonathan, we're _super-villans_. We're Buffy's arch-nemiseses...es...es," Andrew piped up.  
    "Don't take my word," Warren griped. "And Andrew's right. That's what I'm trying to tell you."  
    "I don't _care_. We're not really _serious_ in taking over Sunnydale! We were just _bored_, Warren!" Cordelia felt the ropes holding her wrists together loosen and finally fall off, and shortly after her bandana fell away from her eyes. Jonathan moved down to the legs of the chair and furiously worked at the ropes with shaking fingers. "We didn't really want to kill her, not after she died! Have you forgotten how badly she can kick our asses, Warren?!" Cordelia's right foot was released. Jonathan moved back around to her left foot now. He was silent as he freed her foot. "I'll show you out, Cordelia."  
    "You won't be going anywhere," Warren held the black barrel of a hand gun aimed at Jonathan's head. "We're in this together, Jonathan. Remember? I told you, if you untied her..."  
    "Oh, up yours, Warren," Jonathan propelled Cordelia towards the stairs.  
    "Don't go any further, Jonathan, and bring Cordelia back, or I blow a nice neat hole the size of a quarter in your head," Warren threatened.  
    "I really don't give a damn. Go ahead, shoot me! But you can't shoot both of us. One of us, or both, will go to the police and turn you two in for what you've done," Jonathan bit back. It seemed a lot had happened and changed in Sunnydale over the past three years, Cordelia mused silently as she edged up the stairs.  
    "Warren, Warren," Andrew said nervously, like a four-year-old to its mother or father. "She's getting away..."  
    Warren whirled the gun on Cordelia. "Don't take another step."  
    Cordelia narrowed her eyes and snarled at the dork in all three of them. "Jonathan?"  
    "Yes ma'am?" Jonathan answered as Warren let the cocked hand gun fall to the ground.  
    Cordelia was about to speak again when the hand gun went off as it hit the floor. Cordelia dove behind the wall and flattened herself against it as Jonathan followed her up. The bullet ricocheted off of the mirror, spraying glass all over Warren and Andrew, but the bullet itself buried in Jonathan's shoulder blade.  
    "Oh god! Jonathan!" Cordelia scrambled to the boy clinging to the wall. She grabbed his uninjured arm and tugged him up the stairs as blood seeped into his shirt. "Jonathan, come on, you can make it."  
    Jonathan stumbled behind Cordelia, checking behind him every now and then. He could have sworn he heard Warren yell at Andrew to get something, but he was rapidly losing conciousness. Jonathan Levinson was a small man and therefore had a lesser amount of blood than say, Dawn. "Cor...Cord..." he panted. "Cordy..."  
    "What _is_ it?" Cordelia asked impatiently, still dragging him.  
    Jonathan dragged up the last bit of strength holding him back from unconciousness and flung himself at Cordelia's legs. They both toppled over as a bullet whizzed by the place Cordelia had previously been standing.  
    "Shit," Cordelia muttered to herself. "That boy is psychotic!" she pulled her legs out from underneath Jonathan's heavy, limp body. "Jonathan? Jonathan, wake up." She shook him. Warren and Andrew were now visible at the doorway of the house they called headquarters. "Jonathan! Come on! Wake _up_ dammit!" However, Jonathan just lie there. Cordelia looked up to the sky and muttered obscenities to the Powers That Be while hauling Jonathan up. She wished she had her cell phone so she could call _someone_. However, Warren and his lamb had taken it while she was tied up.  
    "Stop trying to run Cordelia," Warren said. "You have nowhere to go."  
    "Shut up Warren," Cordelia called back. She had managed to haul Jonathan into her arms and was now dragging him and his bloody clothes down the sidewalk. "You're going to _rot in hell_ when Angel finds out about this."  
    "Andrew," Warren jerked his head as his kidnappee and ex-lackey were slowly being dragged away. "Stop her, you moron!"  
    Andrew sprinted after Cordelia and Jonathan, his legs making long, slow, excessively drawn out strides. It looked sort of like he was running in slow motion. Cordelia removed her shoes and held one of them in her hand.  
    "Come any closer and I swear to the PTB that I will beat you to unconciousness with my shoe."  
    That made Andrew pause.  
    Warren shot his pistol again. Or tried to. It just clicked a couple of times. Cordelia laughed heartily, or as heartily as one can running barefoot down the street with an unconcious man over her shoulder and a high heeled shoe in one hand. Warren started to run after her now, and--damn, he was fast! Cordelia threw her shoe at Warren and managed to have it land on his stomach. He stopped and clutched at his stomach, watching Cordelia run. "Andrew, go!"   
    Andrew nodded and took off again.  
  
    Warren and Andrew had at least had enough consideration to pretend like Jonathan had been taken down by a driveby shooting in the bad part of town and taken him to a neighbor. Warren had stayed to fill out necessary papers after the neighbor had called emergency, and sent Andrew with the shoeless Cordelia back to their headquarters to be tied up once again. As soon as Warren could slip out unnoticed, he would return. Until then, Andrew was to put her chair in the center of the room and busy himself with something.  
    "Andrew, please. Just let me call Angel. A lot of people could _die_ because you wouldn't let me tell Angel that people are in trouble!" Cordelia pleaded.  
    Andrew looked at Cordelia. "I-I'm not supposed to let you do anything..."  
    "I know. But do you want the deaths of ten people on your shoulders?" Cordelia stared at him with the saddest eyes.  
    Andrew almost crumpled then. "But I'm an arch-nemises!"  
    "But you have a concience," she told him. "Please...let me call Angel. Hey, you don't have to untie me even. I'll tell you Angel's phone number and you just have to hold the phone to my head."  
    He blinked and considered it. "Your predictions come true?"  
    "If Angel doesn't stop them," Cordelia nodded.  
    "O-okay...but don't tell Warren I let you do this!" he said. "What's the phone number?"  
    Cordelia told him Angel's cell phone number and made a mental note to have Angel change the number as soon as he busted in all rogue superhero like. Andrew held the phone to Cordelia's ear.  
    :Hello,: came the answer after five rings.  
    "Hey you," Cordelia said.  
    :Cordy!:  
    "Yeah. Um, is Buffy out patrolling?"  
    :Yeah...why?:  
    "She's in danger. If Spike's with her, she's in a lot of trouble. She'll _die_."  
    :Damn! Where is she?:  
    "The usual spot."  
    :Dammit. Where are you?:  
    "Warren and Andrew's secret lair! It's the hellhound house where Tu--" Andrew slammed down the phone. "You bastard."  
    "I can't let you tell them where you are."  
    "Too late. Angel knows where I am."  
  
    "That was Cordelia!" Angel grabbed his jacket from the table. He had come to the Magic Box to hang out with the group while Buffy and Spike went out to slay night nasties. "Dammit. Buffy's in trouble," he ran from the Magic Box to his car. He fumbled with his cell phone in one hand while igniting the convertible into moving. His cell phone beeped a few times and wished that he had thought to bring Willow with him in case his phone rang again. His cell phone began to ring again as he sped down the street.  
    "Come on, turn on, turn on!" he pushed random buttons, trying to answer the phone. It stopped ringing and Angel let loose an impressive string of curses. The voicemail icon and ring sounded a moment later.  
    _Great_.  
    His tires squealed as he skidded into a parking spot at the cemetery where he had last seen Cordelia. He figured that she was referring to Spike's stomping grounds as the "usual place". He just hoped he wasn't too late. Angel jumped over his door and hit the lock button, running down the path. He leaped and cleared a bush and headed towards Spike's crypt until he heard the sounds of battle. He heard Buffy grunt. Then he heard Spike yell, "Bloody hell!". Not a lot of time then.  
    Angel wheeled around and took off towards the fighting noises. He hurled himself into the clearing, rolling into a somersault and standing just before hitting a headstone. There was the demon.  
    Momentarily distracted by Angel's arrival, Spike took his attention away from the three arms the demon waved viciously. It smacked Spike in stomach, resulting in the blond vampire folding his arms over the injury.  
    Everything slowed down.  
    Angel ran and jumped, placing his hands on the younger vampire's shoulders and pushing as hard as he could. Spike took a violent, twisting turn in the air and landed stomach first on one of the headstones while Angel used the leverage from Spike to turn himself around and drop to the ground. Buffy, meanwhile, had managed to stab a couple of the demon's eyes and outrun it for the moment. Everything resumed its normal pace, with Spike moaning over the grave and Buffy and Angel combatting the demon.  
    Unfortunately, Angel had been so consumed with getting to the scene in time to save Spike that he had forgotten to grab any weapons out of his convertible's trunk. He glanced at Spike and searched for the reckless vampire's weapon, finding none. So fists and fangs it was.  
    "Angel!" Spike yelled. Well, groaned really loudly.  
    "What is it?" Angel yelled back, grabbing one of the demon's arms and twisting it with all his might. It snapped audibly and the demon roared. Slime began to ooze from the shoulder.  
    "Here," Spike kicked a sword at Angel, hoping it wouldn't stab the man in the foot.  
    Angel scooped down and picked it up, not missing a beat, as he went for what appeared to be the demon's legs. Buffy still worked at making the demon blind. So far she'd managed to stab out five of its twelve eyes.  
    "This," Buffy grunted, jumping back to avoid a wildly swinging arm, "sucks!" She thrust the sword she carried forward into another of its eyes. Half down. "Hey, I guess it's Cyclops now."  
    "Buffy, watch it's bloody arms!" Spike yelled, followed by a loud grunt. He gripped the headstone he now sat against.  
    Buffy glanced at its arms, just in time to have her sword knocked from her hands. Angel swung and chopped off the hand that would have crushed her as she retrieved her sword. "Any idea how to make this thing lie in a dead way?" Buffy asked Angel, expertly kicking the handless arm away from her and sending it spinning.  
    "I'm thinking decapitating works!" Angel answered, doing as he said.  
    The demon roared and stood.  
    "Well, damn, Angel. I think that didn't work."  
  
"All I'm saying is maybe we should give him a chance," Anya said, cleaning the counter with a rag. "We should invite everyone, actually. Angel, Cordelia, and all of their acquaintances. We're inviting Spike as well, and that's that."  
    "We aren't inviting that brain-cell lacking dead head, Anya. Do you have any idea how much trouble that would cause at the wedding? We already have enough demons with your guests anyway," Xander answered, making out a shift chart for the following day at the construction site.  
    "Are you saying there's something wrong with my friends?" Anya asked incredulously.  
    "Aside from the fact they're demons? No," Xander shrugged.  
    Anya huffed. "That's extremely biggotted of you to say that, Alexander Harris."  
    "I just don't want any trouble at the wedding. I don't know how I'm going to explain to my parents why a bunch of demons are attending my wedding," Xander said exasperatedly.  
    "Well you don't have to be so rude about it!" Anya pouted.  
    "An..." Xander sighed. "Look, you can invite anyone you want too--just _not Spike_."  
    "And why not? He's done nothing to us in the past year!" she protested.  
    "Why is everyone forgetting about what he's done to the original gang?! First he brainwashed Buffy and Dawn, then Angel and Cordelia and all of the others, now he's gotten to you, and probably Willow and Tara!" Xander stood up roughly, knocking over his chair and grabbing his things. "Don't any of you, _any of you_ come crawling to me when one of you turn up dead!"  
    That's when he stormed out of the Magic Box.  
    Anya ran out after him. "Don't you _dare_ come home, Xander! Don't you _dare_ until you can learn some forgiveness!"  
    She stomped back in as Xander's car left the Magic Box parking lot. "Oh...I...don't have a ride..." Anya took a deep breath and fought back tears as she dialed Tara's phone number. "Tara? Hello...it's Anya. Um...Xander...Xander and I...I need someone to transport me to my apartment..."  
  
In the end, the demon lay dead by one of the headstones and was slowly disappearing. Buffy had had the right idea with poking out all of its eyes. Angel made it a tad easier on the by decapitating the demon, but they still had to combat the enraged thing. By the time Angel had managed to stab the last eye blind, Buffy had a rather nasty looking cut on her arm and was limping.  
    Buffy limped over to Spike. "Spike?"  
    "I broke a couple of ribs, love," he murmured, sitting stock still. "Thanks to the Poofter."  
    "Hey, it was either that or die," Angel answered. "Cordy had a vision--"  
    "You found Cordelia?" Buffy interrupted, trying to help Spike to his feet without hurting him.  
    "You're hurt," Spike grunted, waving her away and using the headstone to help steady himself until Angel reached out and held him in place.  
    "It's nothing. It just looks bad," Buffy argued.  
    "Your crypt is near here, right, Spike?" Angel asked. Spike grunted and nodded his head slightly. "I'll help you to your crypt, and get Buffy wrapped up, and then I'm going to go get Cordy back."  
    "Why didn't you tell Xander or Willow or Tara to go get her?" Buffy wondered, sliding her uninjured arm underneath Spike's arms and across his back.  
    "I didn't have time," Angel slid his arm underneath Spike's arms and across his back as well, and the Slayer and Champion helped the injured paradox to his crypt. "You have a first aid kit, Spike?"  
    "I know where it is," Buffy nodded and went to retrieve the first aid kit.  
    "Bloody hell," Spike muttered through clenched teeth. He had broken four ribs in landing on the headstone, if not more, and it hurt like a bitch. "Bloody _hell_," he had been laid on the top of his sarccophagus. So now he banged his head lightly on the stone to try and get his attention off of his ribs. That was also when his game face appeared, taking too much energy to keep his human visage in place. He muttered more curses, trying to make himself feel better.  
    Angel quickly wrapped up Buffy's arm and wrapped an Ace bandage around her sore knee. "I hate to leave so quickly, Buffy, Spike, but I really need to go rescue my gir--" he stopped himself. "My employee."  
    Buffy looked at him strangely. "All right. Rescue Cordelia."  
    "Poof," Spike grunted.  
    Angel paused, "Yes?"  
    "Kick the blokes who took her's asses for me, all right?" Spike asked.  
    Angel nodded, "I will." And he left.  
    Buffy stared at Spike and his wounds. "What happened? And what do you do about broken ribs?"  
  
"Warren!" Andrew cried as soon as his beloved leader entered the house Tucker had used to store his hellhounds. "Warren! W-we've gotta go! We've gotta move! Jonathan, h-he'll tell the police, a-and Angel knows where we are!"  
    Warren groaned. "How in the name of the Hellmouth did _that_ happen?"  
    "Uh...erm...uh..." Andrew stuttered.  
    Cordelia narrowed her eyes. She didn't really care if Andrew got in trouble with their leader, so long as she stayed alive. "Andrew let me call Angel. I told him where you were."  
    Warren looked at her with a disbelieving expression that mingled with fear and anger. "Andrew, how'd you let this happen?"  
    "Well...s-she said _lots_ and _lots_ of people were going to die if I didn't let her tell Angel about her vision," Andrew gave his best subdued apologetic look to Warren.  
    Warren rolled his eyes. He released Cordelia from her bindings to the chair and tied her hands behind her back. "Come on, captive. We're moving ship. Leave the things here, Andrew--except, grab The Book. And Sparky's bone."  
    "Can we bring the Fett?" Andrew asked, holding up the Boba Fett figurine Spike had threatened to decapitate some time earlier.  
    "Bring the damn doll," Warren snapped, shoving Cordelia forward and up the stairs. "Move it, Barbie."  
    "Ex_cuse_ you," Cordelia said irritatedly. "My name is _Cordelia_, not _Barbie_."  
    "Shut up and move," Warren replied. "Andrew, come on!"  
    Andrew scurried after them. Warren opened the back of the van and shoved Cordelia in, who dragged Andrew in behind her. Warren jumped into the driver's seat of the van, backed out of the driveway, and sped off down the road the opposite way Angel's convertible barreled down the road. Angel hardly took the time to park correctly--just slammed on the brakes, put the parking brake in effect, and jumped out of the car, running as fast as he could into Tucker's former house and down to the basement. All that greeted him were monitors, a dry erase board, and the things that Andrew and Warren had left behind.  
    "Damn," Angel muttered angrily. He marched over to the monitors and punched random keys on the control panel, eventually finding one that switched all of the cameras off. After that he took the heaviest thing he could lift in the basement and smashed the control panel to little more than snapped wires. He sighed and realized that while Angelus was having a grand time buried somewhere beneath his soul, Angel wasn't making things better. Quite frankly though, he didn't know if he could go another hour without holding her in his arms. As it was, he missed his son terribly already, but he had at least had Cordelia. But now some nerds had kidnapped her and wouldn't give her back.  
    So Angel trudged up the stairs and out of the house. He would go back to the Magic Box and alert everyone that a demon hadn't captured Cordelia, rather, the trio of geeks that had turned Buffy invisible did. That is, if the gang was still at the Magic Box. Buffy was with Spike still, he hoped, and Anya, Xander, Willow, and Tara should still be at the Magic Box, unless a couple of them decided to go home because it was nearing three a.m. Angel dejectedly sat in the driver's seat of his convertible and grabbed at the last vestiges of emotionally strength, jamming his keys into the ignition and starting the car, and finally driving off.  
  
The Magic Box was locked when Angel got there. No cars sat in the parking lot. Had they totally just, forgotten about him? Well, he would go to Cordelia's hotel room, the one she shared with him, and call people from there. Maybe he would be able to get ahold of Willow or Tara and tel them that the mission had failed. That he had spoken to Cordelia, found out where she was, and had failed to rescue her. It weighed heavily on the vampire's soul.  
    He parked in the hotel lot and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, down to room 412. Angel's body was getting agitated, and his mind went into a different mindset as he realized he needed to feed. Maybe that would boost some of his morale and make his outlook go to a bit more optimistic. Maybe if he told Willow what happened with Operation: Rescue Cordelia after feeding and then called Angel Investigations he would feel better knowing that Holtz had been staved off by Angel's sudden disappearance.  
    So, Angel got to work. 


	12. Sunnydale II: 11/Mission Impossible

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Sunnydale II  
**Part**: 11/Mission Impossible  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy. "Save Me" belongs to Aimee Mann, and I go it from the Magnolia soundtrack.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: PG-13  
**Pairings**: Angel/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Take a Stab At It, Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya, Riley/Harmony  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Mission Impossible ~*~  
  
    Spike felt comfortable for the first time in a couple of days. Buffy had actually come to take care of him instead of pushing the job onto Angel. Of course, she had heard about Angel being unable to rescue Cordelia from Warren and Andrew's hold, and had also found out that Jonathan had been admitted into the hospital with a very bad shoulder wound. Buffy's gash had healed except for a fine line where a scar would probably stay, so she had time to focus on making Spike heal. Not that she wanted him to or anything.  
    "Buffy, love, be a sweetheart and turn to the Passions channel, will you?" Spike asked.  
    "You and that Passions," Buffy muttered. But she flipped it on anyway. "I'm not even going to ask what's going on right now."  
    "Your mum used to watch Passions," Spike said reverently. "She used to talk about it with me."  
    Buffy smiled at the fond memory Spike held of her mother. Justly, if her mother found Spike decent enough to converse with, and so did Dawn, why shouldn't she and everyone else talk to him? "Yeah, my mom used to watch a lot of stuff."  
    "D'you know if she watched Dawson's Creek? Bloody pansies on that show, you know. Addictive, granted, but bloody pansies, I'm telling you," Spike shook his head and hissed when he moved his back doing so. "Speaking of pansies..."  
    "Spike, you aren't a pansy, you have a couple of broken ribs," Buffy sighed. She busied herself doing something or other. "Which is reason enough to hiss when you moved your back and ribs the wrong way."  
    "Glad you think I'm not a pansy, love," he smiled.  
    She shook her head but smiled at him. "You know, you aren't so bad once you get used to the brash way you talk."  
    He studied her for a moment. "Pet, can I ask you somethin'?"  
    "Hm?" Buffy looked up from her magazine.  
    "Do you still love Angel?"  
    Her face registered a shocked expression, then softened into a smile. "As a friend or a brother."  
    "He loves Cordelia, you know," he said.  
    Buffy smiled sadly. "I figured."  
    "Sorry, love, but I figured you should know. Peaches isn't gonna tell you anytime soon," he rolled one of his shoulders stiffly, wincing when his torso moved along with it.  
    "How do you know? Last time I checked you and Angel weren't exactly the best of friends," Buffy said darkly.  
    "A lot changes in a twenty-two days, pet," he answered, fixing his eyes to the television screen.  
    Buffy rolled her eyes. "I knew it was Interrogation Day. I knew it. I knew there was going to be a day where you would ask me a whole bunch of questions to get to my deep dark secrets."  
    "It's only fair," he scoffed. "You know all of mine."  
    "Okay, fine. Get on with it. Ask away," she folded her magazine. Spike looked longingly at the television, then back at Buffy, and back at the television. Passions versus Buffy, the Spikebrain said.  
    "Love, turn off the telly."  
    Buffy rose and flipped the dial to the off position. "Okay, Spike. Let's go."  
    "Well, now I don't know if I want to do this," he folded his arms, staving off a grimace.  
    "You're impossible," Buffy informed him, sitting down on the floor of the crypt and looking up at his sarccophagus.  
    "_I'm_ impossible? Love, I'm not the one shagging a vampire in the closet just 'cause he makes me feel alive," he snapped before thinking. He realized what came out of his mouth and closed his eyes. Here would come the righteous indignation, followed by threats of staking, and the angrily hurt stomping off.  
    She glared at him, trying her hardest not to look hurt. "That's cruel. You are a disgusting thing, and we are not 'shagging'. Not anymore."  
    "That's not what you said last time," Spike told her, digging himself a deeper hole.  
    "Last time was _the_ last time. I don't even know why I'm here. You're an ungrateful, soulless, _animal_, Spike. I made a mistake," Buffy collected her magazines and puts them in her bag. "You don't know what the hell compassion is, what _love_ means. You don't love me--"  
    "You bloody well know I do!" Spike interrupted, raising his voice.  
    "You wouldn't yell at me like that if you did! You wouldn't say those cruel things! And you sure as hell wouldn't go running to _my soulmate_--"  
    Spike barked out a harsh laugh. "Soulmate? You think Angel's your soulmate?! Newsflash, Buffy, but look at how much Soul Boy worships Cordelia!"  
    "It's infatuation. Like I was with Riley," Buffy growled.  
    Spike stared at her, disbelief written on his face. He shook it off and smirked at her, "Oh, love, you're in for a _big_ shocker when you find out what Peaches has been doing under the covers."  
    "Shut up! Shut up, Spike!" Buffy glared at him. "Okay, I love Angel like a brother--I know he loves Cordelia--but he's still my soulmate."  
    "That's just it though, pet, you're _not_ his soulmate. _Cordelia_ is," Spike swung his feet off the edge of the sarccophagus and stood. "How can I make you understand?"  
    "Understand what? That you, you make up all these lies? You say you love me, and then you throw this in my face, this...this _lie_, this thing we do?" Buffy stared at him incredulously.  
    "Buffy...love, please," Spike made his way over to her and had just about placed his hand on her shoulder.  
    "Don't touch me," she said icily. She threw her bag over her shoulder and stormed past him.  
    "You bloody _tease_!" he shouted after her, scrambling away from the sun let in by the open door. He edged around it slowly and made his way to the heavy door, using his entire body to push it closed and finally sitting down in his chair in front of the television. "Damn Slayer," he muttered.  
  
Angel had called Xander, who had stayed at Buffy's house for the past two days, and Willow, who had moved in with Tara at the dorms on Sunnydale University's campus, and asked them both to come over to his hotel room. Angel had carefully calculated a plan that only involved the two Scoobies that he knew the best out of the group he'd started out with. Though Angel felt bad about breaking his promise to Spike, as soon as he got Cordelia back he was going back to Los Angeles. He needed to get back to Connor, before the child forgot who his father was. He also needed to take care of the simmering Holtz.  
    So Willow and Xander were scheduled to show up at his hotel door any second now.  
    There. A knock at his door, followed by Willow calling, "Angel, you there?"  
    Angel rose and opened the door, allowing Willow and Xander access to the room. "Thanks for coming on such short notice, you two. I really appreciate it, and you know I wouldn't ask unless I really needed your help."  
    "It's no problem Angel, I don't mind," Willow offered him a smile. "So...what's the deal?"  
    Xander looked around for some place to sit and found a chair. The hotel room wasn't large but fairly sized, with a king-sized bed for Cordelia and Angel to share, a television and a chair, along with a bathroom. A small bar with a set of shelves and a mirror sat off to one side, and across from it was a window and a standing wardrobe.  
    "I can't find Cordelia. I haven't heard from her in two and a half days, and I think I'm going crazy," Angel began to pace, his boots landing heavily on the floor. "I mean, I'm a vampire, right? I should be able to find her! But I'm only one person. So I need your help. Both of you."  
    "In finding Cordelia?" Xander raised an eyebrow. Willow sat on the edge of Angel's bed, and Angel sat next to her.  
    "Yeah, and getting her back. The plans I come up with all involve more than one person, unless I just bust in on them all rogue superhero-like and beat the two nerds to a bloody pulp," Angel looked at them helplessly. "I can't exactly ask any of my team back up here, and they all left Sunnydale for a reason. I'm remembering why I left, and why I stopped coming back. This place is a Hellmouth. More than that, my girlfriend has been abducted by two _humans_. I'm going back to Los Angeles as soon as I get her back."  
    Xander and Willow exchanged looks. Xander nodded, "We'll help you. Are you taking Spike with you?"  
    "Depends if he wants to come. He's welcome to," Angel shrugged. "But that's beside the point. What I really need to do is _find Cordelia_."  
    "Well," Willow said, "I'm in."  
    "I guess I am too," Xander sighed.  
    "Thanks," Angel nodded. "I know neither of you are that fond of her, but you two are the only ones I actually know here. I don't want to bother Buffy because she's been busy, I don't know your girlfriends, and Dawn's too young to help."  
    "I don't mind, Angel, really," Willow smiled. "Just lead us, Leader."  
    "Okay. So, this is what I'm thinking. After we find Cordelia's location, we send Xander in as sort of a decoy."  
    "That's me, Decoy Man," Xander muttered darkly. He was still in a bad mood about Anya kicking him to the curb, though he was better than he was the day before.  
    "Well, not really a _decoy_ in the literal sense. More of a...double agent," Angel nodded, satisfied with his word choice. Xander seemed to like the idea of being a double agent better. "So Xander goes in and pretends like he wants to fill in for Jonathan. Once he's in, he'll give Willow a call on my cell phone, and Willow will do a spell to make Andrew and Warren stop moving while I go in and rescue Cordelia."  
    "Sounds good to me," Willow said cheerily. "I'm not quite sure what kind of spell would make them just freeze there..."  
    "You're a powerful enough witch to come up with something if you had to. I'll bet if you said 'stop' in Latin it would make them stop moving," Angel nodded, convincing himself. "Now. Xander. You'll have to make up some reason to join...but we still have to _find_ her first."  
    "I can think of a couple places they might be," Willow said thoughtfully. "I mean, Xander could check the obvious places since he has a car, and then I'll check some geek hangouts."  
    "I'll check some demon bars after sunset," Angel nodded. "Though I've checked almost all of them..."  
    "Sounds good," Willow grinned. "Okay. But I really have to get going now, Angel. I have a class at Sunnydale U in about..." she checked her watch. "A half hour, and I still haven't eaten yet."  
    "And I have to get down to the construction site. Being a foreman isn't exactly a luxury job," Xander sighed. "I'll swing by here as soon as we let off for the day, and then I'll start out searching."  
    "Thanks, Xander," Angel nodded. He opened the door and held it for Willow, closing it after Xander had left.  
    Xander walked next to Willow, silent, until they reached the elevator. "What do you think you're doing, Will?"  
    "...Waiting for the elevator?" Willow asked innocently. He had really caught her off guard with that question.  
    "No. I mean, agreeing with Angel's plan. You're not supposed to do magic, Will, for good, or evil, or selfishness or whatever. Remember? That's why you broke up with Tara?" Xander reminded her.  
    "Well...I'll...uh...oh...Tara," Willow looked stumped. She was obviously toying with the two ideas of telling Tara or keeping the spell a secret. "What to do about Tara..."  
    The elevator dinged twice at them as the doors slid open. Willow stepped on and leaned against the back corner while Xander pushed the lobby button. "You shouldn't do the spell, Will."  
    "Why not? It's to help Cordelia, and Angel. There'll be no personal gain, and it's not like I'm going to have to keep using magic. I've already proved to myself I don't need it. So I'll just do a tiny spell! No big," Willow answered flippantly.  
    Xander shook his head. "The world's done a complete 180 on Xander Harris."  
    "I'm sorry, Xander," Willow gave him a sympathetic smile.  
    "Anya trusts him," he heaved a heavy sigh.  
    "Trusts who?" Willow asked as the elevator stopped on the lobby floor.  
    "Spike."  
    "Oh. I do too. Angel trusts him. I think that really says something."  
    "You've all lost your minds."  
    "Angel did some pretty bad things too, Xander."  
    "No, Angelus did. Angel has a soul. Spike does not. Spike has a chip."  
    "Same difference."  
    "You've all lost your minds."  
    "Oh Xander..."  
  
"Does Mr. Levenson reside here?" the police officer asked of the nurse standing outside of Jonathan's room.  
    The nurse nodded. "If you're looking for Jonathan Levenson, he's in there. But he's asleep right now. Perhaps you could come back later?"  
    "We've been trying since he was wounded to question him, ma'am, so if you don't mind, we'd like to just get in there, ask him a few questions, and let him be," the police officer's partner informed the nurse.  
    She sighed. "Let me wake him. I'll call you in when he's alert enough to answer your questions," she entered the room. A couple minutes later, the nurse called the officers in and left the room.  
    "Mr. Levenson," the first police officer nodded. He held out a hand to Jonathan's uninjured side. "I'm Officer Powell, and this is my partner, Officer Smythe." He shooked Jonathan's hand. "We're here to ask you a few questions about your incident."  
    "Like what?" Jonathan frowned, his still sleep-addled mind going in a million directions.  
    "First of all," Officer Smythe started, "explain to us, in your own words, what happened."  
    "Well," Jonathan edged up so he was sitting a little more. "Warren Meers and Andrew...Tucker's brother? The one who tried to destroy Sunnydale High School?" the two officers nodded. "Well, they had kidnapped Cordelia Chase. They might still have her too...but anyway. Warren pulled a gun on her after I untied her and tried to get her out, and Warren dropped the gun, and the next thing I know I'm bleeding from my shoulder," Jonathan nodded to it, "and can't feel it. So Cordelia helped me out to the street, and the next thing I remember is waking up here the day before yesterday."  
    Officer Smythe and Office Powell exchanged looks. Officer Powell nodded, "A fellow with the last name of Meers but called himself Andrew filled out the papers. It's the strangest thing, because according to Mr. Meers, you were injured in a drive-by shooting."  
    Jonathan groaned. "Well it wasn't. The last place they were was at Tucker's house."  
    "They've moved?" Officer Powell asked. "How do you know this?"  
    "Well, Cordelia escaped, and she had a phone. I think she might've called someone, her boyfriend maybe, and told him where they were. So they've probably moved," Jonathan shrugged with his good shoulder.  
    "I see," Officer Powell nodded.  
    "All right," Officer Smythe finished writing. "And your name is Jonathan Levenson?"  
    "Yes. L-e-v-e-n-s-o-n," Jonathan answered. He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth and slowly let it out.  
    "Would you like to press charges against Mr. Meers and his accomplice?" Officer Smythe asked.  
    "Do I have to decide now?" Jonathan asked. "I can't really think straight right now, and my shoulder is hurting _really_ bad...where's Alicia?" Jonathan fumbled for his remote control and pressed the nurse button a couple of times. "Is there anything else you need, Officers?"  
    "You don't have to decide now. When you're discharged from the hospital, drop by the police station if you would like to press charges. We need you to sign this statement," Officer Smythe said.  
    "Bring it over here if you would," Jonathan instructed.  
    The intercom behind him lit up. :Yes, Jonathan?: the nurse operating the intercom asked.  
    "Get Alicia please," Jonathan pleaded. He took the pen Officer Smythe offered him and scribbled his signature on the line. Officer Smythe signed off on the witness spot. Alicia walked in the door that moment.  
    "What do you need, Jonathan?" Alicia gave him a kind smile.  
    Jonathan returned it as best he couuld. "Alicia, I think my medicine's running low...my shoulder _hurts_..."  
    Alicia looked to the officers and said, "Maybe you should let Jonathan have his rest." The officers nodded to her, then to Jonathan, and left the room. "Just sit tight. I'll be back with your medicine in just five minutes."  
    Jonathan smiled again. "Thanks."  
    Alicia smiled back and left to go get Jonathan's pain killers.  
  
Xander didn't exactly agree with Angel's plan. He didn't want Willow to fall back on a bad habit, an addiction, she'd just begun to break. So he tried to come up with something himself while he checked the obvious places--Warren's mother's house, Jonathan's mother's house, and Andrew's mother's house. Then he went to Tucker's old hellhound house. He found the same thing Angel did, plus a smashed up monitor control pannel. He did what Angel hadn't bothered to do though, he searched for clues with his Scooby training.  
    "Okay, Geek Troika, let's see if you left any clues as to where you would go in case someone found _this_ little lair," he muttered to himself, poking around. He found a dry erase board with ridiculous goals written on it, some action figures, and a large chemistry set. Xander bent down and looked through some scattered papers on the ground, finding a paper labeled, "Emergency Backup File Numbers". Shrugging, Xander pocketed that paper and searched for others. Ones written in foreign languages he collected, knowing Willow could decode them if she set her mind to it. He found a stack of papers sitting near the monitors and snatched at those, not bothering to look at them just yet. Once Xander cleared the floor of loose papers and books, he scanned the room for anymore books or papers that could come in handy, and grabbed a remote control box with a large red button on it, not knowing what it controlled, but knowing it would piss Andrew and Warren off if they came back and found it wasn't there.  
    Xander hopped into his car and drove off to the Bronze. He parked in the parking lot beneath a street light and turned his light on inside the car. He discarded papers in foreign languages and read over ones in English. Soon enough, he came across a paper labelled, "Emergency Locations".  
    Xander was in business.  
    However, the locations on the paper were simply addresses, not a large place. So, Xander would have to check each and every address. Maybe he could call Willow and share some of the addresses with her, but then he wouldn't be hailed as a hero. And for once, Xander wanted to be hailed as a hero. Well, not a _hero_, but as if he actually mattered and could do something besides stress about the wedding, which didn't look like it would be taking place anytime soon. So off Xander went to the first location: 1635 Revello Drive. Five addresses away from Buffy's house. The perfect hiding place, if Xander did say so himself. To be so close to the Slayer while they were looking far and abroad for them? Perfect.  
    Xander pulled into Buffy's driveway and got out of the car, walking down the sidewalk. Luckily, he wore a jacket with a hood, his subconcience having realized he may need to shield his face. So he walked down the street until he stood in front of 1634 Revello Drive, flipping up his hood and jamming his hands into his pockets. He casually crossed the street and looked down at the basement windows. Light shone through the square pane of glass and Xander smirked. Oh, today was his lucky day. The aptitude test in high school should have told him he should have been a spy. CIA. FBI. He would blow them all out of the water. Well, if he could lie successfully. Oh well, he would have been a method actor.  
    So Xander cut across the lawn and took a casual, curious glance at the window. Andrew stood with his back towards Xander, and Cordelia was tied to a chair in front of him. Cordelia caught sight of Xander and her eyes widened slightly, panicking. She didn't want Xander to get caught spying on them! Xander flashed her a smile and the "A-OK" sign, getting up and walking away, back to Buffy's house. Well then. Looked like Angel would be leaving sometime tonight. Perhaps Spike would go with him.  
  
"Spike."  
    "Oh bloody hell, Peaches. I was sleepin'."  
    "Look, I know your hurt, but dammit--I need your help in finding Cordelia."  
    "Find another bloke to help you. I can't move a thing without wincing. Pansy, thy name is Spike."  
    "Suck it up and take it like a man, Spike."  
    "Piss off."  
    "Don't make me drag you up."  
    "Piss off!"  
    "Fine. I'll make a note to tell Buffy what a wimp you really are."  
    "You'll do no such thing, Soul Boy."  
    "Then prove me wrong."  
    "By going into pain more excrutiating than the stuff my soddin' chip used to give me? No thanks."  
    "Angel, leave him alone."  
    Angel turned and faced Buffy. She gave him her iciest glare and Angel left, his tail between his legs. That was when his cell phone rang, and he came running back. "Would one of you mind answering this?"  
    Buffy accepted the call for him and handed the cell phone back to him.  
    "Angel here," he said, leaving the security of Spike's crypt.  
    :Hey, Dead Boy.:  
    "Xander! Did you find her?" he asked anxiously.  
    :That I did.:  
    "Where is she?" he frowned.  
    :1635 Revello Drive, in the basement. I'm with Willow right now, outside Buffy's house. On the porch.:  
    "No kidding? That close to Buffy's house?"  
    :Unfortunately. Or fortunately, depending on how you look at it.:  
    "I'll be right over. Then we can look for a spell for Willow to use."  
    :...Yeah. We'll be here.:  
    "Bye."  
    :Bye.:  
    Xander hung up on Angel. Angel stared at his cell phone, fiddling with the controls until the "Call Ended at 11:34 P.M." message flashed at him. He nodded in satisfaction, and left Spike's cemetery for Buffy's house.  
  
Willow had teleported a time freezing spell for Andrew and Warren on a scroll rather than look it up the old fashioned way. So when Angel arrived, revved to do research, he had to rapidly shift gears into Mr. Stealthy Pants mode. Xander prepped himself to convince the geek trio that he wanted to join their group. He had actually worked himself into a frame of mind where he believed, to an extent, that he wanted to join their trio--er, duo--because Anya had spurned him. He still was angry with Anya, and this didn't help much.  
    "All right!" Willow stood happily. "Are we all ready to go?"  
    "Yeah," Xander said darkly. Willow actually flinched.  
    Angel nodded. "I'm ready. Let's go."  
    Xander left Buffy's porch and went around to the front driveway, walking down it slowly, his hands hidden in his pockets, and a rather pissed off expression on his face. He hurried over to 1635 and walked around the house until he found the basement entrance. It was locked from the inside, so instead of ripping it off of its hinges, Xander stomped on it with one foot until he heard someone coming to unlock it. He stood back as the door was thrown open.  
    Andrew blinked at him. "Y-you..."  
    "Out of the way," Xander said, his voice saturated in dark authority. Andrew scrambled out of the way and slammed the door closed behind him. "Leave it unlocked."  
    "Andrew, what did you--" Warren started to say, turning around to face Xander, "--let into the basement?"  
    "Aner!" Cordelia cried through the masking tape over her mouth. Relief flooded her face until he looked up at her, then she shrank back in her chair. She had no idea someone could don that kind of face with such a gentle spirit. Had he really changed that much since she left Sunnydale? What happened to the Xander she had fallen for?  
    "I'm going to join your group now," Xander informed them, sitting down at the new set of monitors they had set up. He looked at the sixteen monitors they had up and shook his head. "Don't you know it's illegal to do that?"  
    "Hey, Xander, you can't just...walk in here, and expect to take over the troika!" Andrew piped up.  
    "Oh? And who's gonna stop me?" Xander looked at Andrew. Then he laughed incredulously, "You?"  
    "No. But my gun will," Warren held it up.  
    Xander deftly took it from Warren's hand and took out the empty clip, tossing the hand gun back at him. "It was empty, moron. Might want to fill it up next time you try to threaten someone with it." He turned back to the monitors and turned each one off. "First, let's get rid of these stupid cameras."  
    "Hey you can't..." Warren tried to tell him.  
    "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do," Xander snarled. "Now give me your phone. I need to tell Buffy I won't be coming back tonight."  
    Warren tilted his head to Andrew. "Get him the phone, Andrew."  
    "That's better," Xander snatched the cell phone away from Andrew and headed to a secluded corner of the basement. He dialed Angel's cell phone's phone number and waited for Willow to answer it.  
    :Hello.:  
    "Buffy, hi. It's Xander."  
    :You ready for us?:  
    "I'll be late...what's that? Oh, yeah."  
    :Great. We'll send in the reinforcements in a minute. Stall while I cast the spell.:  
    "If you say so. G'bye." Xander hung up and tosses the phone back to Andrew. "Well now..."  
    Willow threw the doors open and stood at the top of the stairs. Her pupils had enlarged, and generally gave off a whole creepy effect. "Desino olim mano, Warren, Andrew!"  
    Andrew and Warren froze. Xander quickly helped Angel untie Cordelia when he ran down and looked up at Willow. She smiled at Xander. "What's wrong with your eyes, Will?"  
    "Just for show. You'll see when you come back. Now get out, I'm gonna cast a forget spell on them so they don't remember from you coming in on," Willow answered. "Alieno!"  
    A bright flash of light burst from Andrew and Warren. Xander ducked out of the basement just as Warren and Andrew became reanimated. "Let's go," Willow took hold of Xander's hand and ran to his car with him. She was panting and out of breath when she sat down in the passenger seat with him. She grinned, and her pupils shrank back to normal size. "See? No harm done. That was so fun."  
    Xander smiled at her. "I don't wanna go in just yet."  
    "All right. You're my ride anyway, so I'm ready to go anytime you are. I promised Tara I'd be home when she got there," Willow shrugged. She actually looked like she was enjoying herself.  
    "Yeah. Did you tell Tara what happened?" Xander wondered, not taking his eyes from her.  
    Willow shook her head. "Not yet. I'm still trying to decide whether or not I should. I mean, will she break up with me again? Or...or, will she, you know, just not care, 'cause it wasn't for personal gain? But, hey, what's up with you and Anya? Is there anything there on the wedding front?"  
    "No," Xander sighed. "I don't know if I want there to be. I mean, if she's going to get so angry at me over not wanting to invite Spike to our wedding, then are we really meant to be together? You know, you look at Cordelia and Angel, and...you just know they're meant to be together," he motioned at the couple standing in between the doorway and the window, lip locked and whispering to each other. "You look at how they fit in each other's arms. You look at the way they just fit perfectly together." Xander looked at Willow. "I mean, am I ever going to have that with someone? Have the woman I feel like I've known my entire life, so comfortable with, and she fits in my arms just perfect, and..."  
    Willow looked at him sympathetically. "One who will always come back to you? No matter what?"  
    "Yeah."  
    "You didn't figure this out in the tenth grade?"  
    Xander laughed lightly. "You think you know someone, you think you love someone...and they tell you not to come home because you don't agree on one of the wedding guests."  
    "I'd tell you to spend the night, but I don't think Tara would appreciate it much," Willow chuckled. "Goodness, it's stuffy in here!" she opened the door and stood out in the night air, leaning against Xander's car. "Man, tonight was great."  
    Xander got out with her and leaned over the top of his car, watching her. She turned around, folded her arms on the top of the car, and gave him the I'm-Having-Fun-and-Really-Enjoying-Myself grin. Her eyes sparkled like the stars, mischief dancing in her expression. "You know what, Xand?"  
    "What?" he asked.  
    "I say we be rebels and go get ice cream."  
    "I think you're on."  
    They both ducked back in the car and drove off, Cordelia and Angel watching curiously.  
  


*******

  
  
"Look, love," Spike said. Buffy looked at him with innocent puppy dog eyes. He placed a hand over hers as they stood by his sarccophagus, both leaning on it a little. "I need to ask you a question."  
  
_You look like the perfect fit  
For a girl in need of a tourniquet_  
  
    Buffy arched an eyebrow and looked at their hands. "What?"  
    "Do you love me?"  
    She froze.  
  
_But can you save me  
Come on and save me  
If you could save me  
From the ranks of the freaks  
Who suspect they could never love anyone_  
  
    He looked down and removed his hand. "I thought as much. If you don't, I'll jus' head on back to L.A. Hell, none of you Scoobies like me. I'll just go back, say goodbye to your sis this time..."  
    Buffy tilted her head. "Spike...I...I _do_ have feelings for you...but..."  
    Spike literally growled at her. "Don't do that. You have to stop saying that. It's bloody torturous. Would you have put up with it if my poncy grand-sire had told you," he cleared his throat and pitched his voice femininely, "'Well, I have feelings for you, but, you know, I don't _really_ love you...'. Would you have put up with it, Slayer? Would you?"  
  
_'Cause I can tell  
You know what it's like  
The long farewell of the hunger strike_  
  
    Buffy looked down, tears forming in her eyes. "Would I have put up with as much shit as you have? Well, newsflash, Spike, I've put up with more things that you'll _ever_ know."  
  
_But can you save me  
Come on and save me   
If you could save me   
From the ranks of the freaks  
Who suspect they could never love anyone_  
  
    "Oh, _really_ Slayer?" Spike asked her. He turned away from her. He was glad he hadn't unpacked all the way. He would be leaving with Angel and Cordelia as soon as they were ready to leave. "I wasn't aware you lived longer than my 127 years. I didn't know you lived longer than me. I didn't know you loved someone you were so bloody _close_ to having, only to have them snatched away. To have them pull back, just when you're so close you can _taste_ it. To be unable to touch. To be unable to convince them. To stay with one person for a century, only to have them go crawling back to their ex. To go sniveling back to my grand-sire. You know what it feels like, Slayer? You know what it feels like to be told you're _beneath_ someone? To be the dirt they turn their nose up at? To, to pour your heart into every little thing that concerns them, to have them take one of your comments the wrong way?" Buffy stared at him, horrified. "Yeah. That's what I thought, Slayer. But listen," he bent his knees and scooped up his bag, starting to put things into it. "I'll get out of your hair. Like I said. None of you like me anyway. Might as well go where I'm at least appreciated, even if I'm a baby-sitter."  
  
_You struck me dumb like radium  
Like Peter Pan or Superman_  
  
    "Baby-sitter?" Buffy whispered.  
    "Yeah. I baby-sit Angel's son, Connor, in exchange for having a room at Angel Investigations," Spike answered, lifting his bag with his knees. "Bloody hell. Miss the li'l tyke, actually."  
    "Angel...has a son? How?" Buffy frowned.  
    "Bugger if I know," Spike shrugged. "He's Darla's. Or, was. Darla's dead now."  
  
_You will come to save me  
C'mon and save me  
If you could save me  
From the ranks of the freaks  
Who suspect they could never love anyone_  
  
    "But...Angel dusted her, I saw it," Buffy told him, trying to rationalize the situation.  
    "Well, some blokes ressurected her, she came back, got laid by Angel, and voila. Baby."  
    "But vampires can't...?" she trailed off, panicking for the moment.  
    "Prophecy, Summers," he grunted, picking up a book and sliding it into his duffel bag.  
  
_'Cept the freaks  
Who suspect they could never love anyone  
But the freaks   
Who suspect they could never love anyone  
_  
    "You're actually going to leave, aren't you?" Buffy frowned. "You're going to leave me. Again."  
    "Well, got nothin' to stay for. Have a bird who doesn't love me, a little girl who thinks she loves me, a bloke who hates me, and two witches who ignore the piss out of me. So, I'd say, yes, I'm going to leave," he told her pessimistically.  
    "But you said you wouldn't leave me, Spike," she murmured.  
    "That was then. This is now. Catch up with the times, Slayer," he informed her. "Oh bloody hell..." he gripped at his ribs. "Shouldn't have come back...should have known you would do this..."  
  
_C'mon and save me  
Why don't you save me  
If you could save me  
From the ranks of the freaks  
Who suspect they could never love anyone_  
  
    "You don't really love me, do you, Spike?" Buffy asked, dazed.  
    "Of course I love you! I love more than I can bloody _tell you_ but you won't believe me!" he slowly rose to his feet, lifting his bag with him. It was too soon for anyone--advanced vampire healing or no--to be up and around, carrying heavy duffel bags, with at least four broken ribs.  
    "If you really loved me--"  
    "Stop it, Buffy! This is exactly why I'm leaving again. I can't...I can't go another round with you. You win, all right?! You win! I quit! I'm done. I'm going to Los Angeles. This time for good."  
    She stared at him some more. "You're lying. You'll always come back to Sunnydale. You don't just stop loving someone, Spike. Love is forever."  
    "Try telling that to yourself, Summers. Or to Drusilla. Or Captain Cardboard. Or any of these other blokes that break up with each other."  
  
_Except the freaks  
Who suspect they could never love anyone  
Except the freaks who could never love anyone_  
  
    "I'm sorry."  
    "But, we aren't really breaking up, now, are we? Because that would sort of take two people who love one another to do that. It would take two of us dating to break up. Shagging...shagging was fun while it lasted. The only thing better than killing a Slayer is shagging one, love. You'd do well to remember that, next time you shack up with a vampire."  
    "You heartless bastard."  
    And she slapped him.  
    He knocked her hand away just after it made contact, and he snarled at her. "Add this to the reasons of why I'm leaving Sunnydale. I'm going to go say goodbye to your little sister, and then I'm going to go sleep at the Motel Six until Angel and Cordelia come to give me my wake up call. Don't you dare follow me either. I want to be able to make a clean break this time."  
    She stood in the center of the crypt as he dragged himself out, holding his ribcage as he got into his DeSoto.  
  
Spike pulled up to 1630 Revello Drive and climbed out the car, staring at the house he'd spent the most of the previous summer in. It was now almost March, and spring had begun to show itself. Of course, Spike never saw any of that, unless it was from the safety of underneath a ratty old blanket. So Spike now marched, or tried to march, up to the front door of the Summers' house and rang the doorbell.  
    "I've got it!" Dawn called from inside. "It's probably Buffy!" she pulled open the door and blinked at Spike. "...Spike? What are you doing here? Why didn't you come in the ba--" she stopped when Spike hugged her fiercely. "Okay, verging on creepiness here. Spike? What's up?"  
    "I'm leaving Sunnydale again," he said softly.  
    "What?" she demanded incredulously. "Why?"  
    "I don't belong here, Bit," he hugged her again and finally let go. "I belong in Los Angeles, where more than one person gives a bloody damn whether I walk or not."  
    Dawn frowned. Then she crossed her arms over her chest. "Something happened with Buffy again. Is that what you do everytime you have a tiff with her? Run to Angel?"  
    "Pet, it's not like that," Spike grimanced and held his ribs again. "It's...more complicated than that, and I barely understand it myself, I just know I can't stay here with your big sis tellin' me she cares about me and then doin' nothing about it."  
    Dawn sighed. "At least you aren't lying to me," she conceded. "Angel and Cordelia are inside. They wanted to talk to Buffy, but I guess they can do that over the phone if you wanted to leave with them."  
    Spike stepped inside the house and walked into the living room. Angel and Cordelia looked up at him. "Spike?" Angel stood. "You shouldn't be up and--where's Buffy?"  
    "That bitch is mulling over what I told her in my former residence. I'm ready to go back to Los Angeles now, if you please," he answered.  
    "Me too," Cordelia stood quickly. "In fact, I think we can tell Buffy what we have to say in oh, a letter, or, you know, maybe even over the phone? Or an email."  
    Angel raised his eyebrows. "O-okay. Let's drop by our room, and we'll be on our way. It's only about a half-hour after midnight, so we still have five hours till sunrise. So let's get going."  
    "_Finally_. Someone who wants to do things _my_ way," Spike said, relieved. 


	13. Los Angeles II: 12/Gray Skies

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles II  
**Part**: 12/Gray Skies  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedonvand Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy. "Nothing but You" belongs to Kim Ferron (and I know it was used in "When She Was Bad", the season two priemere...). "Mr. Jones" belongs to the Counting Crows.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: R for language and drowning of the sorrows in alcohol.  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ Gray Skies ~*~  
  
"Hey...um...you...the girl with the glasses...brown hair...hey, you!"  
    Fred looked up from the desk she sat sorting through invoices at and blinked at the captive. "My name's Fred, thank you."  
    "I understand that you all don't really like me or really even tolerate me that much, and I know why you have me chained here, but...could you _please_ unshackle my legs so I can stand for a minute? Or even sit? Because my legs are getting really tired. I promise I won't try to run."  
    Fred frowned. "I don't know if I should...I mean...I don't know you or anything but Wesley made it pretty clear that you weren't supposed to be let loose, and he's my boss..."  
    "Wow. Wes really climbed the industrial ladder...but anyway. Listen, I'm a reformed girl, and I promise I won't hurt you, Fred. It's my own comfort I'm ambling at right now."  
    Fred pursed her lips and nodded. "All right. I'll let you sit. Do you want a chair? Or do you want to sit on the floor?"  
    "That ground looks kind of uncomfortable...if it's not too much trouble to bring me a kitchen chair or something like that, I'd really appreciate it."  
    "Okay," Fred smiled. "Don't try to go anywhere now. I'll be right back." She rose and left the room. Their captive tugged at the chains attached to the ceiling and floor and sighed when all they did was jangle loudly. Their captive wasn't trying to flee, simply see if they needed heavier chains to keep her down. Apparently they used the ones Angelus used. Fred returned then, toting a chair. "All right. I'm gonna trust you, okay? I'll unshackle you, and then you sit in the chair and I'll put you back together."  
    "Sounds good to me."  
    Fred unlocked the chains and released the captive, setting the chair against the wall. The captive stood there congenially until Fred said it was okay to sit down. Then the captive sat and waited for the shackles to come back on.  
    "Thanks. My legs aren't so tired now."  
    "No problem," Fred smiled and sat back down at her desk. "Wesley said he'll be calling Angel anytime soon to let him know you've come here, to ask Angel what we should do about--"  
    "Bloody hell! It's _you_!" cried an incredulous, Cockney-twanged British voice.  
    "And...you," the captive answered.  
    "Faith?" Cordelia asked, her eyes wide.  
    "Hey! Cordelia! What's up?" Faith grinned.  
    Cordelia backed away, staring at the brunette Slayer aghastly. She wrapped her arms around one of Angel's, not scared, but wary, and feeling better standing next to him.  
    "What's with the clinging? Look, I'm not gonna hurt any of you, if you'd like to let me go sometime soon..." Faith trailed off.  
    "We'll be doing no such thing."  
    Everyone wheeled to face Wesley.  
    "Angel, Cordelia, welcome back," he glanced at Spike. "Hello, Spike."  
    "Hey Pryce," Spike nodded.  
    "Hi Wesley," Fred said.  
    Wesley smiled at Fred and nodded. "As I was saying, Faith came to us in the middle of business hours last night. She came to us, claiming she had been let out of jail 'on account of good behavior' and was currently on parole."  
    "I am," Faith sighed. "I've changed, you guys. No more stake-happy Slayer."  
    "I gotta get out of here," Spike muttered, shrugging his duster on and leaving the room in a flurry of leather.  
    "What's with him?" Faith frowned. "What did I say?"  
    "It's a long story," Angel sighed. "What are you doing here, Faith?"  
    "If you would kindly unchain me, I'd feel more inclined to tell you. I feel like I'm on trial," Faith stood up and jangled her chains. "Come on, you guys. Thing's will all be five-by-five..."  
    Wesley frowned. "How did she get a chair? And enough slack to sit?"  
    "Fred let me. She trusts me," Faith smirked.  
    Wesley flinched and looked at Fred accusingly. "You what?"  
    "Well...she...her legs were tired, Wesley, and, and, I'd rather our captive be comfortable rather than pissed off at us," Fred told him.  
    Gunn intervened then, seeing the rapidly intensifying anger on Wesley's face. "Lay off, English."  
    Wesley rolled his eyes. "Fine."  
    "Um, Wes, my wrists are turning red, and I'm pretty sure my ankles have already gotten there. Would you mind unchaining me? Or, Fred! Fred, you're cool, you're down with me, would you mind releasing me?" Faith asked, shifting from foot to foot.  
    Fred walked over to the chains, Wesley trying to follow her but Gunn holding him back. "Sorry, man, can't let you do that."  
    Wesley narrowed his eyes. Angel chose that moment to break up a potential fight. "To your corners, guys."  
    Gunn walked over to Fred and helped Faith out of her bindings. "Thanks. I really appreciate what you're both doing for me."  
    "No problem," Fred smiled.  
    Faith looked up and flinched at the pair of bespectacled eyes glaring at her. Wesley really didn't like her...  
  


*******

  
  
"Damn Slayer," Spike murmured. He had already rushed so far from the Hyperion and he didn't even realize it. He looked up, coming face-to-face with Caritas. Lorne had rebuilt it, finally, since he had left with Cordelia and Angel. Not too long, but considering all the strings the empathic demon could pull...  
    Spike stood at the threshold, trying to decide whether or not he should descend into the club. With a sudden twirl, Spike stalked away from the club. His duster felt heavy on his shoulders. He already missed Buffy. He wished he hadn't left on such a bad note.  
  
_I think I'll go for a walk  
Maybe out in the rain_  
  
    One of Spike's groupies from Y Seres saw him and tried to approach him. "Hey Spike--"  
    "Sod off," he muttered, pushing past said groupie.  
    The groupie stared at him as he walked off.  
  
_Maybe let the tears roll down my face  
And not feel the pain_  
  
    The sky rumbled and suddenly burst, drenching Spike and his leather duster in water. Not to mention a tingly feeling began in his stomach. Sunrise was almost here. Spike parked himself on a bench on the perimeter of a playground.  
    Maybe it would lightning. That would be nice.  
    Spike shoved back the sleeve on his duster and wiped his long grey sleeve across his eyes. He wasn't crying. No, not Spike. He'd never cry. It was just the rain.  
  
_Maybe think about something  
Maybe think about you  
Yeah, you can't hurt me now_  
  
    Someone held an umbrella over his head. Spike blinked and looked up, wiping his eyes again and looking at the umbrella-holder.  
    "Riley?"  
    Riley nodded. He had gotten a rather good-looking haircut the week or two Spike had been gone. "Come on, Spike. Let's go back to the hotel."  
    Spike frowned. "What are you doing?"  
    "Trying to save your ass from being fried," Riley answered.  
    Spike's frown deepened. "Why?"  
  
_You know you can't hurt me now  
You can't hold me down_  
  
    "I did some thinking while you were gone," Riley said. He sat next to Spike, holding the umbrella over both of them. "I know you love Buffy. I questioned it when I was still in Sunnydale. I questioned how a vampire could love, with or without a soul. Then I remembered the stories I had heard about how much you worshipped the ground Drusilla walked on. So I said, 'Okay. He loves her. But there's no way Buffy could ever love him.' Then I watched how Angel acted around Cordelia, that Valentine's Day, and how Cordelia acted around him. I realized people can love vampires. People with souls, they can look past the bad of vampires and see the not-so-bad. I realized that from Harmony as well. She loves me."  
    Spike shook his head. "So what are you saying?"  
    "Well...I figure that if you're back here again, she rejected you. I know how it is, Spike. How it feels to love her _so much_, and then...she's just outside your grasp. Always. The only one who ever kept her was Angel," Riley sighed. "I guess I'm symapthizing with you."  
  
_And I got plenty of time  
Time to figure it out  
Time to think about you and me  
Whatever that was all about  
I got nothing to prove  
I've got nothing to say  
No, I guess I never thought you were good for me anyway  
Got nothing to lose...  
Nothing but you_  
  
    "You poor sod," Spike told Riley. He didn't want to make friends with Riley. Temporary truces were one thing. But heart-to-hearts? No.  
    Riley blinked cluelessly at Spike. "What's up?"  
    "Look. Me 'n' a nice bottle of Jack Daniels have an appointment that I have to keep. And let's get one thing straight, Captain Cardboard," Spike grabbed the collar of Riley's shirt. "I am not your mate. I am not your pal. We do not have to heart-to-bloody-hearts. We do not have anything in common, thank god, and I do not fancy hangin' out with you. Do I make myself clear?"  
    Riley nodded.  
    "Good."  
    Spike released him and stormed off, the tingly feeling he felt earlier growing stronger. He would just go to Y Seres and make himself feel better.  
  
Riley walked into the hotel, shaking the umbrella a few times outside the door, and then setting it against the wall. "Hey everyone, I'm back."  
    Cordelia came down the stairs and looked at him. "Oh, hey Riley. Did you have any luck finding him? Or, rather, did you have any luck speaking to him?"  
    Riley shook his head. "I found him, and I took the no-violence approach. He didn't feel the same courtesy towards me. He basically told me he hates me, he doesn't want to speak to me again, and he was off to go get drunk."  
    Angel came down the stairs behind Cordelia. "Any luck?"  
    "No, he said Spike told him he hates him and he was going to go get drunk," Cordelia answered for Riley.  
    "Sunrise is almost here," Angel frowned. He wrapped an arm around Cordelia's waist. "It's almost sunrise, and he's going to go get drunk? Brilliant move, Riley. You let him walk off?"  
    "It's not like I'm as strong as he is, Angel," Riley told him.  
    "I'll go see if I can find him," Cordelia sighed. She started to move, but Angel tightened his arm around her waist. "Angel!"  
    "Let's ask Fred. She's his best friend," Angel told her. "Riley, go see if you can find Fred. She's probably still with Faith."  
    Riley rolled his eyes, "What am I, dog guy?"  
    "Fetch, Sparky."  
    Riley glared and turned, marching up the stairs the opposite direction. Wesley peered out of his office. "The verdict on keeping Faith here, Angel?"  
    "Let her stay until she gives us reason to distrust her. Fred seems to trust her, as does Gunn. I know we all have our qualms with her, but we set those aside for Riley, Harmony, and Spike, didn't we?" Angel pointed out.  
    "Yeah, but none of them tortured Wes in effort to get you to kill them," Cordelia argued.  
    "Spike locked you in a broom closet. With Willow," Angel raised his eyebrows at her. "Harmony tried to kill you."  
    "Point made," Cordelia removed his arm, kissed him, and went off into the kitchen.  
    "What's the real reason you're letting me stay, Angel?" Faith asked from the top of the stairs. She had heard the entire conversation.  
    "Aside from the art of forgiveness and an anchored soul? The obvious reasons. You'll be a great addition to the team. I just hope that you can get along with everyone," Angel replied. "You've made friends with Fred and Gunn, right?" Faith nodded. "What about Riley and Harmony?" Faith shrugged. "Lorne?"  
    "Would that be the scaly singing green guy?" she asked. "He left."  
    "Caritas reopened," Wesley added. Angel's "art of forgiveness" sentence had inspired him to do the same.  
    "Great," Angel nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I hear Connor crying."  
    "Connor's crying?" Faith wondered as Angel breezed past her.  
    "Vampiric hearing," Wesley replied, turning into the office.  
    Faith descended the stairs and stood at the counter. "I was right there, at the top of the stairs. I didn't hear it."  
    "Pity," Wesley murmured. He flipped through a stack of papers. "There's a book out there somewhere. It's a leather-bound first edition with no title."  
    "Is that a hint, Wes?" Faith hoisted herself up on the counter and looked for it there before heading over to the seats in the center of the lobby.  
    "If hints are blatant requests," Wesley opened a book inside the office.  
    "So why are you being nicey-nice to me now?" Faith plopped the book on the desk. She kneeled and crossed her arms on the edge of the surface, resting her chin on her arms. She arched an eyebrow.  
    "If Angel wants you here, who am I to argue?" Wesley replied. He opened the book Faith retrieved for him and looked through a few pages.  
    "Yeah, but you hate me," Faith said suspiciously.  
    "Indeed I do," he agreed.  
    "Which brings me back to my first question," Faith placed her hands on the open pages. Wesley looked up at her. "What's with the sudden nice-ness? Are you being a martyr or something? 'Cause that's Angel's job."  
    Wesley narrowed his eyes and attempted to knock her hands away from the pages. However, Faith employed her Slayer strength and planted her hands firmly in place. Wesley sighed dramatically and rose, going to the shelves. "Do you mind? I have a case to work on."  
    "And I have a serious case of the wiggins. Solve mine. Then I'll let you get back to work," Faith told him. She walked over to him and stood just behind him. Wesley turned and faced her.  
    "Angel said the reasons he's letting you stay here are the art of forgiveness, an anchored soul, and the fact that you're a Slayer. They all apply to myself as well, aside from the letting you stay. If it were up to me, I'd have you stay at another hotel. However, to achieve a balance in the work place, I am going to work at forgiving you for what you have done," Wesley explained.  
    "Are all you Watchers such wordy people? You could have just said, 'hakuna matata'," Faith grinned.  
    Wesley raised an eyebrow. "'Hakuna matata'?"  
    "You never saw The Lion King?"  
    "I'm afraid not."  
    "Well, damn, Wesley."  
  


*******

  
  
_I was down at the New Amsterdam  
Starin' at this yellow-haired girl  
Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation  
With this black-haired Flamenco dancer_  
  
    Spike mulled over his tall glass of beer. He had six other empty glasses just as tall scattered around the counter. The entertainment this morning was some local band. Or, had been, because at the moment they were packing up. Just a handful of people loitered around the warehouse.  
    "Spike," Andy said, just coming on shift that morning. "Where have you been?"  
    "Sunny-sodding-hell," he muttered darkly.  
    "I take it she didn't accept you," Andy collected two of the six glasses and set them in the basin to be taken to the washroom.   
    "She did," he said. "Then she did the bloody Mexican Hat Dance on me and everything I feel."  
  
_She dances while his father plays guitar  
She's suddenly beautiful  
We all want something beautiful  
I wish I was beautiful_  
  
    "Did you tell her that?" Andy asked, watching Spike chug down the entire glass.  
    "Gimme another, mate. Coors, Budweiser, Corona, whatever," he said. "I tried. I don' think I go' through t' her this time. Or the las' time. If she would just let 'erself feel, instead of thinkin' all the time..."  
    "I hate to say it, Spike," Andy set another tall glass of beer in front of the blond vampire, "but maybe that's what she had been doing. Letting herself feel, instead of thinking. Then she started thinking."  
    "She should listen t' her heart. She'd be bloody amazed at what she'd hear," he answered.  
  
_So come dance this silence  
Down through the morning  
Cut up, Maria!  
Show me some of them Spanish dances  
Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones_  
  
    "You said she was involved in a serious relationship before?" Andy asked.  
    "One, when she was sixteen, seventeen, eighteen-ish. Shagged Angel, Angel lost his soul, I helped avert the apocalypse. I mean, bloody hell, Andy--I helped save her life on more 'n one occasion," Spike said heatedly. Then his face lost all color it had gained from the alcohol. "Oh...oh bloody hell..."  
    Andy frowned. "What's a matter?"  
    "She mus' hold it against me that I didn't save 'er last year," he whispered. He grabbed the glass in front of him, chugged it, and grabbed one of the bottles behind the counter. He ripped the spout off of it and swallowed it all down.  
  
_Believe in me  
Help me believe in anything  
I want to be someone  
Who believes_  
  
    "I don't think that's it," Andy reassured. "It wasn't your fault."  
    "Yeah, bu' you don' understan' the way Buffy thinks. It also isn't my fault that I'm a vampire. I mean, if...if she would jus'..." Spike calmed down. "I...I don' feel so good...gimme somethin', Andy."  
    Andy held a cup under the water faucet, filled it up, and set it in front of Spike. "There ya go."  
    Spike took a sip of it and spit it out. "Wha' the bleedin' hell is that?"  
    "It's water," Andy rolled his eyes. "It'll make you feel better."  
  
_Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales  
Stare at the beautiful women  
"She's looking at you.  
Ah, no, no, she's looking at me."_  
  
    "No, gimme somethin' else. With alcohol," Spike knocked the glass aside.  
    Andy shook his head, "I don't think you should have any more, Spike. You're pretty out of it."  
    "I don' care. Wha' the hell do you think'll happen to me? I'll die? Pass out, maybe, but it ain't gonna hurt me, mate," Spike dropped his duster on the floor next to his stool.  
    Andy shrugged, "It's your unlife." He handed him another beer.  
    "Exactly."  
  
_Smiling in the bright lights  
Coming through in stereo  
When everybody loves you  
You can never be lonely_  
  
    Fred hurried down the sidewalk, umbrella over her head, Gunn's jacket around her. It smelled like him. Not that she smelled the jacket or anything.  
    The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and luckily next to no one was on the cement path. Still, she took precautions because of the gutters running water from the roof to the sidewalk and onto the road. Plus, it was still raining cats and dogs. Which was enough reason to be cautious as any. She was on her way to Y Seres.  
    "Spike," Fred muttered. She had never seen the man happy. He was always miserable and lacking any spark of happiness, unless he was around Connor. The baby always seemed to bring out the best in people, vampires or no. Harmony was the same way. "Spike, you better not have stumbled out of Y Seres...I know Andy wouldn't let you."  
    Then, Fred stood outside Y Seres.  
  
_I will paint my picture  
Paint myself in blue and red and black and gray  
All of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful  
Gray is my favorite color  
I felt so symbolic yesterday_  
  
    Spike was more than a bit tipsy, needless to say. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew, logically, that the real pain wouldn't come until tomorrow, or the day after. That's when the homesickness would set in, and his longing to hold the blond Slayer in his arms would magnify ten times. "Do you have a bird, Andy?"  
    "No," Andy shook his head. He watched as Spike lit a cigarette and took a deep mock-breath of it. He slowly let it out. "Why?"  
    "Have you ever loved one so much it literally made you _hurt_ to be _around_ her?" Spike took another deep breath of his cigarette, calming his nerves even more. He took a gulp of the beer Andy had given him.  
    "Not that much," he answered. "I don't think I have."  
    "I've loved exactly three," Spike held up four fingers, "women. Cecily in London, Drusilla for one hundred years, and, and I still love Buffy."  
    Andy nodded. He looked up at the door, mentally hoping that one of the Angel Investigations members would walk through the door and take the hammered Spike to the Hyperion.  
    That was the moment Fred walked in. "Spike!"  
    Spike looked up sluggishly. He smiled. "Hey Fred."  
    Fred ran over, dropping her umbrella on the floor and hugging him. "You're all right."  
    "Not in a literal sense," he murmured, wrapping the arm not occupied with holding him up straight on the counter around her.  
    Fred released him. "Come on. Cordelia's waiting in her Jeep around the corner. Let's go back to the Hyperion, Wesley has some Scotch there."  
    "Love," Spike still had his arm around her waist.  
    "What is it, Spike?" Fred raised her eyebrows.  
    "I can't get up," he said quietly.  
    Fred sighed and shook her head, sliding one arm under his arm and helping him almost fall from the chair. "Can you walk? Or stand."  
    "Maybe...if the room wouldn't bloody spin..." Spike clung to the side of the counter as Fred scooped down to pick up Spike's duster. She shrugged it on over Gunn's jacket. "Hey...you look cute in that, pet."  
    Fred blushed. "Hush. Come on." She hooked the umbrella over her elbow, sliding her arm back underneath his and holding the hand of the arm draped across her shoulders. "You've got me. Let's take it one step at a time. First your right foot--"  
    "I'm left-handed, love," he muttered. He lifted his left foot and fell down on it, then did the same with his right foot, lurching forward with Fred's help until they reached the door.  
    Fred had him lean against the door frame as she pulled out a blanket and draped it over him. "Come on, Blondie," she helped him out the door and into Cordelia's Jeep, which was parked right outside. The moment he collapsed across the backseats, he fell asleep. Or unconcious. Fred couldn't tell. "Let's go, Cordy. Maybe we can all get some sleep..."  
  
"We really should be doing something else," Cordelia murmured between kisses.  
    "I know," Angel answered. "But...I can't seem to keep my hands..."  
    "And lips..." Cordelia added.  
    "And lips off of you," he finished, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you were kidnapped...kinda brings out Protective Boyfriend Guy in me..."  
    "Mm...think I like Protective Boyfriend Guy..." she replied. Angel pinned her against the wall, kissing her deeply.  
    They sprang apart when the front door slammed.  
  
"Great, just great," Spike muttered as Holtz walked in, Justine slightly behind him and to the right. "What do you want?"  
    "Angelus," Holtz stated simply.  
    "We're his dogs. Would you like us instead?" Spike retorted.  
    "Spike," Fred hissed, hitting him on the arm.  
    "No, Angelus will suffice. However, Connor would do just as well," Holtz replied smoothly, unruffled by Spike's sarcasm.  
    "Well, sorry. He's in the sack right now," Spike shrugged. "We can take a message and have him call you back when it's convenient for him."  
    Holtz stared at Spike evenly. "Do you know who I am, Spike?"  
    "My guess would be Danielle Holtz," Spike answered.  
    Justine started to leap forward but stopped when Holtz raised his arm. "Daniel. Not Danielle."  
    "My mistake, mate. You just look so bloody feminine I thought perhaps you'd changed your name," Spike said evenly.  
    "Retrieve Angelus or Connor, and I will leave," Holtz told him.  
    Spike tilted his head back. "Riley, go get Angel. Faith, go with him, stay with Cordelia."  
    The pair took off to go do their assigned jobs, knowing Spike, even in his inebriated state, knew what was going on and what would happen if all the bases weren't covered. Angelus had raised a fine tactician. "Angelus will be with you in a moment," Spike smirked.  
    They stood silently until Angel came down the stairs, Riley following. "Holtz," Angel blinked. "Come so soon?"  
    "What can I say, Angelus, I was just too anxious to see you," Holtz said dryly. "May we speak in private? My associate will stay out here, your associates will stay out here."  
    "Um...yeah," Angel agreed when Spike advised him to do so from across the room. "We can go in my...Wesley's office," Angel pointed. The group parted like the Red Sea when he did so. Holtz nodded to Justine and followed the path into the office. Angel hurried after him. He stopped when he arrived at Spike. "Maybe you should sit down for a bit," he whispered, then followed Holtz into Wesley's office.  
    Spike lurched forward then, hearing combat sounds up in Connor and Angel's room. There was no way he could keep an eye on Justine and go help Faith and Cordelia at the same time when he was sober, much less intoxicated.  
    "Spike?" Fred asked.  
    He looked at Fred, then at the rest of the group, and at Justine. "Riley, Wesley, Harm, Fred, stay here. Gunn, you come with me." He started towards the stairs, pausing as he passed Justine to say, "You make one wrong move, and none of those four will hesitate to kill you." Justine flinched and Spike smirked, following Gunn up the stairs. "Angel and Connor's room. They've ambushed us."  
    "Damn," Gunn cursed, jumping the last three steps at the top of the staircase, running to Angel's room. "Are you..." he almost asked if Spike was certain but heard Cordelia yell for help. The two males burst into the room, finding the girls outnumbered four to one.  
    "Spike! The baby!" Cordelia yelled, planting her foot firmly into one of the four attacking her's stomach. She ducked under a punch. "Gunn! Help!"  
    Faith was holding her own, but barely. Spike barrelled forward, tackling one of them, then looking to Connor's crib.  
    Empty.  
    "Fuck! Which of you wankers has Connor?!" Spike grabbed the nearest one of Holtz's arm and slamming them into the wall. "Dammit, which of you has him?!"  
    The poor fighter was being strangled by Spike. He sputtered out something to the effect of "underground" before turning an ugly shade of blue and falling limp in Spike's hand. Spike threw him down, and grabbed one of the army members fighting Cordelia and shook her. "Where is Connor?!"  
    "Abort!" the fighter cried. The remaining six members of the army leapt out of the window.  
    Spike threw the fighter to the ground and leapt out of the window after them.  
    "Spike! The sun!" Faith yelled, running over to the window. She looked out and watched him run away. "Oh damn...who's gonna tell Angel what happened?"  
    Gunn and Cordelia said, "You."  
    "Me?! Why me?!" Faith demanded. "You should tell him, Queen C! I mean, you're his girlfriend!"  
    "He'll blame whoever tells him," Gunn answered.  
    "Oh, aren't you guys nice," Faith muttered grumpily.  
    "No, he won't blame whoever tells him. He'll just go rushing off," Cordelia sighed. "Well, we'd better go back downstairs..."  
  
Angel watched Holtz and Justine leave, noticing the rain was letting up a bit now. He felt their conversation had gone well. Angel had made it clear that if Holtz _ever_ came after his son again, he would personally disembowel the preserved man and use his stomach as a purse. Holtz had promised to only come after him then. Angel was satisfied with that.  
    "Spike," he said as he turned around. He found only half of his team there. "...Where's Spike? And Cordelia? And Gunn and Faith?"  
    Harmony pointed behind him, "Over there. Except, there's no Spike."  
    Angel turned back around. He saw the highly subdued faces the three wore, and watched as Faith and Gunn looked away from him. Cordelia's face crumpled as her eyes welled up with tears, and Angel's heart twisted. "Oh, Angel, I'm so sorry," she told him quietly, hugging him.  
    "What happened?" he held her at arms length.  
    "Our buddy Holtz ambushed us," Gunn said. "We were outnumbered by too many, and one of them took Connor."  
    Angel clenched his jaw. "Where's Spike."  
    The three pointed outside.  
    Angel closed his eyes and looked down. "He's not going to come back then..."  
    "Unless he manages to get in the sewer system and get to Holtz's lair," Riley said. "I think he still remembers."  
    "Do you know where it is, Riley?" Angel asked quickly.  
    Riley shook his head. "Nope."  
    "Some help you are," Angel muttered angrily.  
    "Angel, you can't do anything right now," Wesley pointed out. "The sun's up, and it's stopped raining. The only thing you can do is hope that Spike or one of us finds Holtz and the kidnapper."  
    Faith scanned the crowd. "I've got an idea. Why don't we all split up and go out in a search party? Angel and Cordelia can stay here, Fred and Gunn, Riley and Harmony, and...Wes, you and I can pair up."  
    "That's a good idea," Fred agreed. "Come on, Charles," she took his hand and headed out the front door.  
    "Wait," Wesley called. The two stopped and peered back in. "Go north."  
    Fred nodded, "Okay. North," and left again.  
    "Riley and Harmony, you two go south," Faith commanded. The pair left. "Wes, you and I will search east and west."  
    Wesley sighed, "God help me." He hurried over to Faith. "Come along, Faith."  
    Faith gave him a smile, trying to make a truce with him. She followed him out of the hotel and into the sunlight.  
    "It's just you and me now," Cordelia sighed. "We should do some research."  
    Angel began to pace. "I can't just wait here for them."  
    He stopped pacing when Cordelia wrapped her arms around him. "Angel, I don't want the man I love to come back to me as nothing but ashes. I love you too much to let you go out in the sun and try to go underneath to the sewers. Please, wait till the sun goes down. Try to get some sleep. We haven't slept since..."  
    "The night before you were kidnapped," Angel held her tightly to him and kissed the top of her head.  
    "You need to get some sleep. I'll stay up and see if they come here with any news," Cordelia promised.  
    Angel tilted her head up and kissed her deeply. "Thanks. I'm going to go try to get some sleep, because I know you're right."  
    "Good," Cordelia let go of him and watched him go up the stairs to his room. She collapsed then as a vision attacked her.  
    _Spike, Wesley, and Faith were underground in a cave, Sahjhan standing off to one side, smirking, as someone let an arrow fly from a crossbow. It hit Spike on the heart, and he exploded in a cloud of dust. Wesley and Faith turned to find Riley and Harmony standing in the doorway, smirking. Riley shot Faith with a shotgun, and Harmony shot Wesley with a crossbow._  
    When Cordelia came out of it, she found herself in Angel's arms. "Angel..." Cordelia murmured.  
    "What happened, Cordelia?" Angel asked. "What did you see?"  
    "Riley and Harmony...they'll turn on Spike and Wesley and Faith...kill them all..." Cordelia passed out then. The visions had been getting worse. This was the first time she'd passed out from one of them though.  
    Angel pressed his lips together, lifting Cordelia and marching up the stairs. He laid her in his bed and sat in a chair at the bedside. Once again, the Powers That Be decided to screw him over.  



	14. Los Angeles II: 13/Hormones

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles II  
**Part**: 13/Hormones  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: PG-13  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~* Hormones *~  
  
Gunn and Fred stopped at a bus stop. "Ugh...I really don't think we're gonna find anything," Fred sighed, sitting down in the shade the plastic covering offered. "Not unless we go...you know."  
    Gunn nodded. "Well, we could goo to Caritas, see if Lorne found out anything."  
    "That's a good idea! Let's do that," Fred nodded, took Gunn by the hand, and headed off down the sidewalk.  
  
Harmony and Riley plodded through the sewers. "I hate this," Harmony complained. "The sewers _stink_. My brand new shoes are getting sewer guck all over them...Pookie, carry me." She jumped on Riley's back.  
    "All right, Harmony," Riley sighed and carried her for a while.  
    "Mmm...hungry," she murmured.  
    "Don't eat me, dear," he joked. He got smacked on the back of the head for it. "Ow. So, what do we do now?"  
    "Food!" Harmony insisted. "I'm not letting you walk one step further until I have someone to eat!"  
    "_Harmony_," Riley sighed exaggeratedly. "I can't get you anyone to eat until you let me walk."  
    "Oh. Wanna become a vampire, Riley? That way we can be together forever," Harmony kissed his neck, game face coming into play.  
    The simple notion of being with Harmony for eternity scared the living piss out of Riley. He dropped her unceremoniously. "Okay. I know you're hungry. But making me a vampire won't satisfy that hunger."  
    Harmony pouted at him. "Riley..."  
    "Okay. Not that I don't want to stay with you forever, which...I don't, but that's beside the point, but I don't want to be a vampire! I used to kill your kind. I don't want to be your kind. I tried to kill your sire on more than one occasion, Harmony," Riley babbled. "Now...um...I'll go see if I can get someone for you."  
    "Get a good looking person this time, Riley!"  
    "All right!" he called back as he climbed up the ladder.  
    "He's gonna get me an ugly _girl_," Harmony muttered, pouting.  
  
"So..." Faith said, searching for a topic of conversation as they wandered the streets. "What have you been up to?"  
    Wesley looked at Faith without turning his head and sighed exasperatedly. "What do you think, Faith? The same thing I was 'up to' before you tortured me. Except I have a payroll of about six people."  
    "Touche," Faith muttered. "When'd you start PMSing?"  
    Wesley stopped in his tracks as Faith continued past him. She whirled and walked backwards, grinning at him. He, flustered, wiped his glasses off on the hem of shirt, reminiscent of Giles. "I think you'd do well to keep comments like that to yourself."  
    "Oh, you Brits are so touchy!" Faith laughed, waiting for him to catch up. "Really though. You're the boss of Angel Investigations? Do I have to call Mr. Pryce?"  
    "It would be nice," Wesley replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. "What have you been up to, Faith?"  
    "Well, I was in jail, but I was released on parole because they did this treatment on me that repressed my dark side. Or something. I no longer have the urge to stab people with stakes, unless they happen to be people of the fang variety. Then you guys chained me up to a wall, and I made friends with Fred Burkle and Charles Gunn," she smiled. "_That_ is how you answer a, 'what have you been up to?' question. Oh! What's up with Spike? Do you know?"  
    "Well, Spike came to us in early January, before Cordelia's birthday. He's fallen in love with Buffy, I'm rather sorry to say. He's been drinking a lot, smoking--"  
    "Has he been whoring? Or pimping? 'Cause I can just imagine Spike out of those badass clothes and into a pimp outfit," Faith laughed to herself. Wesley stared at her and shook his head. "What? What'd I say?"  
    "You never cease to amaze me," he answered. "However, Spike has been a great deal of help to us, and I was sorry to see him leave when he did. Granted, I'm rather pleased he's back." He motioned towards an alley and Faith darted into it, Wesley following a few moments later. "He's been a tremendous presence. Except for the drinking and smoking. He's like having tw extra bodies."  
    "Why, Wesley, I do believe you're in love with dear Spike," Faith teased him. Wesley rolled his eyes.  
    "I don't think so. I'm rather straight," he answered. They reached a dead end in the alley.  
    "Um...Wesley, I hate to burst your pompous bubble--actually, I take great glee in doing so, but we're at a dead end, hon," Faith raised an eyebrow at him.  
    "Look down," he told her.  
    She did so and embarrassedly stepped off of the sewer lid. "Sorry."  
    "Remove the lid, if you will," he instructed. She lifted it off and set it against the wall. "Now, we enter Los Angeles's sewer system." He disappeared down the manhole.  
    Faith shrugged, grabbed the lid with one hand, and climbed down the ladder, pulling the lid over the hole as she did so. "So where are we going?"  
    "The idea is to try and find Sahjhan's lair, and hope to the Powers That Be that Spike hasn't been cremated prematurely," Wesley raised his eyebrows at her and helped her off of the ladder.  
    "Don't you mean post-maturely?"  
    Wesley sighed.  
    "I thought it was funny. You think about that joke and you'll find it funny too."  
    "Why do I think you're lying?" he asked.  
    "God. Wesley, when was the last time you got laid?"  
    "Last Sunday."  
    "Oh. That's not too bad..."  
    "Will have been four years."  
    "Ooh. Wincing in sympathy here."  
    "I see."  
    "No you don't. I'm behind you."  
    "Oh Faith, you're just so witty, I cannot bear it."  
    "You know you love me."  
    "Now _that_ is the first humorous thing you've said since I've known you."  
    "Oooh, burn! That one's going to leave marks."  
    "That was the idea."  
    "Wesley?"  
    "Yes?"  
    "When was the last time you were kissed?"  
    "Last week will have been about two and a half years ago."  
    "Angel was the last guy who kissed me. That would be about two and a half years ago! Whoa."  
    "I'd say we both need to find dates in a hurry."  
    "I second that."  
    Silence fell upon them.  
    Faith piped up again. "Who was the last person to kiss you?"  
    "Cordelia."  
    "Hey! That's cool. I was last kissed by Angel, you were last kissed by Cordelia, and Angel was last kissed by Cordelia."  
    "Why do I get this sudden migraine in the back of my head?"  
    "Oh, shut up Wesley. You know, actually, the last person I was kissed by was Riley, but I was in Buffy's body, so does that even count?"  
    "No. Buffy's body was kissed, not yours--why am I even having this conversation?"  
    "Lack of anything better to discuss?"  
    "Lack of any intelligent thought processes."  
    "Did you just insult me?"  
    "Would you have to ask if I was?"  
    "I don't know. You might be sneaky like that. Like, I could insult you with my witty street slang."  
    "Oh, recover, my ego."  
    "You're just pissed off. Or should I say 'brassed off'?"  
    "How about not saying anything for the next five minutes so I can get past all your chatter to think clearly?"  
    "You really don't like me, do you?"  
    "You're just now noticing, Faith?"  
    Faith stopped talking and followed quietly behind Wesley as he decided which way to go. Eventually it led them the point where the sewer water became shallower, the cement under their feet smoother. Something knocked over ahead of them, clattering to the floor, and both of them tried to shield the other. Faith and Wesley exchanged glances and quickly took their hands away from the other's.  
    "What was that?" Faith whispered.  
    "If I knew, don't you think I'd tell you?" Wesley snapped, irritated. "You stay here. I'll go see--"  
    "Um, no? Who's the Slayer here, Wes?" Faith raised her eyebrows at him.  
    "Oh...well, yes. I suppose you do have a point," Wesley dropped back. "Do be quiet."  
    "No, I'm going to run screaming down the hallway in my panties and bra," Faith said sarcastically. Wesley turned bright red at the thought and thanked the Powers That Be it was dark in the sewer. Faith crept down the hallway, watching carefully for any signs of anyone coming. She ducked around the corner and peered through the barred window that reminded her a little too much of a prison ward, and saw Sahjhan and Holtz talking heatedly. What had fallen over was a chair.  
    Faith sprinted softly back to Wesley. "Come on. We need to get some weapons. All I have on me is a pocket knife and a stake."  
    Wesley nodded. "Would swords be in order?"  
    "Swords would definitely be in order."  
  
"Here," Riley panted, shoving an ugly girl at Harmony. "Food. The only one I could get down here." She was unconcious. Harmony glared at him but took the girl anyway, sinking her fangs in and drinking. "You're welcome, sweetheart."  
    Harmony smiled at him through her game face and continued feeding.  
    _Great_, the Rileybrain registered. _I'm dating a ditzy vampire that graduated in class of 1999._  
  
Gunn jumped when his cell phone rang. He accepted the call and said, "Hello?"  
    :Gunn.:  
    "Angel? What's up?"  
    :You need to find Sahjhan's and Holtz's lair. Riley and Harmony are going to turn on all of us, kill Spike, Wesley, and Faith.:  
    Gunn whistled. "Any idea where Sahjhan and Holtz are?"  
    :No idea.:  
    "Ask Cordelia."  
    :I can't.:  
    "Why not?"  
    :She's either comatose or very passed out.:  
    Gunn frowned. "What the hell happened?"  
    :The vision knocked her out.:  
    Gunn heard Cordelia make a pained noise in the background and heard Angel tell her that he was right there. "Okay. Is she up?"  
    :Barely.:  
    "Is she coherent enough to talk?"  
    :I don't know. Sweetheart, are you feeling better?: Gunn then heard Cordelia answer that she felt like a sledgehammer the size of Alaska had just smashed the back of her head open. :Well, that's better than what you were feeling earlier then. Gunn wants to know if you know where Sahjhan was.:  
    "C'mon, Cordy," Gunn muttered. Fred clasped her hand in his and wrapped her other arm around his free arm.  
    :She says the alleyway behind Frederick's on Concord has a sewer there. Travel north until you reach an abnormally large patch of algae, then go west until you reach normal cement.:  
    "That's it?" Gunn blinked.  
    :That's it,: Angel agreed. He heard Cordelia moan loudly. :I gotta go. Save them, Gunn. I can't go right now.:  
    "Don't worry, Angel. It's taken care of," Gunn hung up. "C'mon, Fred. Let's go rescue our friends."  
  
When Faith came to, she found herself on top of Wesley in a crude cell. In the next caged cell over, Spike lie unconcious. Faith squinted against the orange glow of the lanterns, not wanting to move from the comfort of Wesley's body. Connor sat in a small carriage on a table in the center of the room. She frowned. Maybe she was dreaming...  
    Wesley groaned.  
    "Wesley, are you okay?" Faith asked, helping him sit up as he came back into conciousness.  
    "My head," he muttered, reaching back and feeling it. "Is okay...except it hurts like a bitch."  
    "Good. That means there's no damage," this relieved Faith, and allowed panic to set in. She had hated prison, and had enjoyed therapy because it didn't force her into a tiny cell. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth on her heels, scanning the room in paranoia.  
    "Faith?" Wesley looked at her strangely. "What's wrong?"  
    "I'm in a cell again," Faith said, backing herself into the corner to try to delude herself into thinking she had more room.  
    Wesley crawled over to her. "You should stand up..."  
    "No. No. If I think I have more room, I'll be fine. Standing is less room. Sitting is more room," Faith babbled nervously. She really hated being locked in a cage like this.  
    "You're just in a holding area," Wesley said. He didn't exactly register that it was Faith he was consoling, so he reached out and gently took one of her hands clinging to her knees. "Come on. Let's stand up. You can pace if you'd like."  
    Faith stared at him. "Wesley...you know it's me, don't you? Faith?" she flexed her fingers through his, not caring that it was Wesley. She was actually glad that she was in the cell with him instead of Spike or Angel or someone else. He just made her feel comfortable, despite the fact he hated her to the very marrow of his bones, when he wasn't suffering from head trauma.  
    "Yes, I know who you are. I know who I am as well," he stood with her. She released his hand and flung her arms around his neck. "...What are you doing?"  
    "Thank you for putting up with me," Faith murmured. "I'm just glad I was put in here with you instead of a vampire, or someone I don't know."  
    Wesley had almost wrapped his arms around her when she broke off. "Do you think we're gonna die in here, Wes?" she asked, pacing the perimeter of the cage. "I'd really hate to die here. And I mean, you've probably only gotten laid once or twice--that's a damn shame. You haven't had sex in--"  
    "Yes, let's do bring that up as much as possible," Wesley interrupted.  
    "Well, I'm just saying. I mean, damn, neither of us have even been _kissed_ in the last two years," Faith ranted. She paused and looked at Spike, then shook her head and looked at Wesley. "I say we rectify the situation."  
    "How about not," Wesley declined. "I'm quite fine being like this."  
    Faith walked over to him. "You're telling me you're going to die knowing you had the chance to have a goodbye kiss without taking it?"  
    "From a woman I hate? No thank you," he pointed out.  
    "Wesley...god, I don't want to die," Faith sniffled. "I had a dream while I was unconcious...we both died...Spike died...Angel died...Cordy...Harmony ate Connor, and Riley danced in his blood as Sahjhan--"  
    Wesley frowned. "How do you know about Sahjhan?"  
    "In my dream. In my dream Sahjhan made Riley his deciple..."  
    "We're going to die. Good god, Faith. Do you realize what you had?" Wesley grabbed her arms.  
    "A dream?" Faith blinked back tears.  
    "It was a prophetic dream that Slayers have, a premonition," Wesley crumpled under Faith's tears. He gently wiped them away with his thumbs. "Maybe we won't die. If someone gets here in time, we won't die."  
    Faith tried to stop her tears without sobbing loudly or reaching up and wiping her eyes roughly. She blinked in surprise when Wesley impulsively kissed a couple of tears away. "Wesley...Wes...do you...do you think my dream's right?"  
    "Shhh," he almost kissed her when Spike suddenly groaned out a "bloody hell".  
    "Spike?" Faith whirled around and kneeled at the dividing bars. "Spike, are you okay?"  
    "Where the bl...ow," he frowned. He had been lying on his side, and now laid on his back. "Ow...that's a painful bugger. Guess the ribs are gone..."  
    Faith raised an eyebrow and traded expressions with Wesley. "Spike, are you all right?"  
    Spike looked back at Faith and frowned. "Who're you?"  
    "It's me, Faith. Remember?"  
    "You smell like the Slayer...did Angelus kill her? And where is Dru?"  
    "Buffy's still alive, Spike...I smell like the Slayer because I _am_ a Slayer. I don't know who or where Dru is."  
    "Have they done summat to her? Did you do somethin' to her?" Spike rolled over and slowly got to his feet.  
    "Spike, you're in Los Angeles. I am Wesley, and this is Faith. All three of us work for Angel, and his paranormal mystery investigation center, Angel Investigations," Wesley chipped in. "You came down here to Sahjhan and Daniel Holtz's lair, to try and rescue the child sitting in that bassonet."  
    Spike looked at Wesley skeptically. "Why in the name of all that's unholy would I work for that prancing sod?"  
    "Because you're in love with Buffy Summers and she yet again rejected your arse."  
    Spike rolled his eyes. "Right. And I'm the bloody ghost of Christmas past," he edged over to the bars, leaned back and landed a swinging a kick that ripped one of the bars from its hinges. "Oh hell..." he grabbed at his ribcage. "Tha' hurt..."  
    "...Why didn't I think about doing that?" Faith stood up, grabbed one of the bars and looked at Wesley. "Hold me."  
    Spike raised an eyebrow and looked at Wesley. "You diggin' the brunette Slayer?"  
    Wesley's cheeks colored slightly and he held Faith's hips as the woman pulled back as hard as she could on one of the bars. It snapped off like a twig. She repeated the process until there was enough room for them to easily walk in and out of the cell. Taking one of the bars, Faith smashed open the lock on Spike's cage, swinging the door open. "Come on. Let's go. Spike, you grab the baby, Wesley, you lead him back to the hotel, and I'll take the rear in case anyone tries to follow us."  
    Sahjhan appeared then. "You won't be going anywhere."  
    "Oh, get lost," Faith tried to kick him, but her foot went right through. "Hey, that's cheating!"  
    Spike grabbed Connor from the carrier and attempted to flee, Wesley following after hesitating on leaving Faith. However, they didn't get very far, as Riley and Harmony stood up and blocked their path. Harmony totted a crossbow lethally, and Riley held a shotgun leveled at Faith's head. "Faith," Spike said calmly. "Dearest, we have visitors."  
    Faith whirled and faced Riley and Harmony. "Hey! You guys! You're on our side!"  
    "They look more like they're on the side of the Big Blue there," Spike raised an eyebrow.  
    "Wait...are you...okay. Riley, you definitely have that thing aimed at me," Faith took a deep breath. "All right."  
    "Sweet dreams, Faith. Here's my revenge," Riley cocked the shotgun as everything seemed to slow. Before Wesley knew it, he had thrown himself at Faith's legs, effectively taking her from the line of fire.  
    "Wesley," Faith smiled. Then she drew her brows together. "I thought you hated me..."  
    "A lot can change in a day," he returned her smile.  
    "Well, isn't that sweet," Riley said sarcastically.  
    "Oh, let them have their moment, Soldier Boy. Don't you know what love means?" Spike sneered.  
    "More than yo--" Harmony was knocked over by Gunn, but unfortunately that triggered the arrow sitting in the crossbow aimed at Spike.  
    "_Spike_!" Fred cried, pushing Riley over as she ran to him. She had put herself in the line of fire and had just been about to duck and take Spike with her when the arrow struck her in the back.  
    Harmony recovered when Gunn took off to help Fred and grabbed Riley, leaving the lair. Spike thrust the baby at Gunn and lifted Fred up. He didn't understand why he would feel affection for a human, much less a human woman. Fred had passed out from the pain at Spike's feet, so he took it upon himself to gently lift her up, ignoring his ribs, and tell Wesley to lead the way.  
    Gunn stood with the baby as Spike carried the woman he loved out of the room. Faith looked at him questioningly, "Wow. Jealous much?"  
    He pressed his lips together for a moment, looking down at the sleeping child. "Come on Faith. Let's get out of here."  
  
"Nice digs he's got," Spike commented as they entered the Hyperion basement. Wesley held the basement door open, allowing Spike to carry the unconcious and bleeding Fred into the lobby.  
    "Angel! We're back! We have Connor!" Wesley yelled.  
    Angel thundered down the stairs and took his son from Gunn's hold. Cordelia slowly descended the stairs, squinting at Spike and Fred. "Spike, what happened to Fred?"  
    Angel looked over his shoulder, "Cordy...you shouldn't be up."  
    "I'm fine. Quit babying me," Cordelia made her way into the lobby.  
    Spike frowned at her. "...When did you dye your hair?"  
    "Not observant much," Cordelia muttered good naturedly. She coughed when Spike didn't smile. "What happened to her?"  
    "She took an arrow for me," Spike held it with its feathers facing her. "Some blond bird--"  
    "Harmony tried to shoot him," Wesley intervened.  
    Cordelia frowned. "Oh, right. The vision. We need to get her to the hospital then."  
    "My car should be around here somewhere," Spike said. "I'll take her, if one of you blokes who know about her come with me."  
    "I'll go," Wesley said quickly. He didn't quite feel like facing Faith just yet. "Come along, Spike," he threw the blanket over his head and helped him scramble into the DeSoto outside.  
    By this time, Gunn was seething.  
    Faith suggested he get something to drink, which caused him to storm into the kitchen. "Damn. Spike losing his memory of the past four years has thrown us to the wolves."  
    "That's what happened?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow. Angel sat down on the angular sofa with the baby, Cordelia snuggling against him.  
    "Yeah. Sahjhan or Holtz or one of his lackeys came and knocked us all out. We woke up in this cage. I think they may have done something else to him, other than knock him out, because Wes and I are fine, aside from..." Faith stopped talking and turned around, busying herself with papers at the counter.  
    "Aside from?" Angel prompted.  
    "Well, he..." Faith shook her head. "It's not important."  
    "Sure it is. I mean, if Spike lost his memory, and you and Wesley are fine except for something, I should know," Angel pressed.  
    Faith shook her head. "It's _really_ not important. We thought we were gonna die, yadda yadda yadda. Get the picture?"  
    Cordelia blinked. "I must be getting this picture from the wrong angle. Did you understand what she just said?"  
    Angel shrugged. "Okay, Faith. If you say it's unimportant, then it must be. Or I'll just weasel it out of Wesley."  
    "No! No weaseling!" Faith exclaimed.  
    Cordelia laughed lightly. "I see what you meant now, Faith."  
    Faith's eyes went wide and her cheeks turned pink. She headed into Wesley's office.  
  
"How is she?" Spike asked the doctor anxiously. "She'll live, right? She won't die?"  
    The elderly doctor smiled at Spike's concern. "She'll live. We're waiting for the x-rays to develope right now. We're going to see just how much muscle tissue Miss Burkle tore and see if it got into any of the bone. How did you say she was injured?"  
    "Archery practice," Spike said. "One of m-my mates was testin' his skills. Blindfolded, you know, and she walked right in front of it. I tried t' warn 'er, but she was shot when she was turnin' around. Purely accidental."  
    The elderly doctor nodded. "I could see how that would happen, especially if your friend had let the arrow fly before you had called out to her."  
    Spike nodded in agreement, glad his story had no holes in it.  
    Fred shrieked inside the curtained room.  
    Spike's eyes went wide and he darted in. "Winifred?" he took her hand gently. He figured that, since he felt affection towards her earlier and had panicked when she got shot, that he was "over Buffy" and moved on to Fred.  
    Fred frowned. "Spike? What are you doing here? Why'd you call me Winifred? Why aren't you dust?"  
    "Shhh, pet," Spike kissed her forehead. "How are you feeling?"  
    "Like I was shot in the back," Fred sighed. She hissed when she leaned back. "What happened?"  
    "You saved me, love," Spike smiled.  
    "Good," Fred returned the smile.  
    "Sir, we're going to have to ask you to leave for a moment," one of the nurses told Spike.  
    Spike nodded. "Right. I'll be just outside," he promised, and since he was under the delusion that he was Fred's boyfriend, he kissed her briefly and left.  
    Fred's eyes went wide. "...What was that?"  



	15. Los Angeles II: 14/What Happens in a Day

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles II  
**Part**: 14/What Happens in a Day  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedonvand Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: PG-13  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned. Also, this focusses mostly on Spike, Fred, Gunn, Wesley, and Faith. Angel and Cordelia are in it a little. Mostly mush. Originally titled "You Are Who You Eat", but changed because of severe subtext that bordered on text in that title.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ What Happens in a Day ~*~  
  
Wesley stepped into the curtained cubicle where Fred sat, drugged up on pain killers. "My back hurts," she told him quietly, seeing him out of the corner of her eye. "They won't give me any more pain medication, and they say part of the arrow head got lodged in my shoulder blade. They're going to have to operate on it."  
    "I'm so sorry, Fred," Wesley apologized. He walked to the edge of her cot, and took her hand. "I can bring some work for you to do during your stay. Or I could buy you a science volume. Teach you how to translate, perhaps."  
    Fred glanced down at her hand and let out a deep breath, her cheeks coloring slightly red. Wesley always flustered her and sometimes made her heart skip a beat. She had no doubt that she loved Gunn enough for two people, but Wesley had somehow wormed his way into her heart. Not that she had heart worms in the literal sense. "It's okay, Wesley, it wasn't your fault. It's my own stupid fault for jumping in front of Spike. I don't know what I was thinking..."  
    "You have a good heart, Winifred Burkle. You were simply protecting a trusted friend. If it weren't for you, we would have lost a valuable teammate, or more. Even if he doesn't seem to recall anything from the past four years," Wesley frowned and shook his head. "Instead, we only have one critically injured teammate." He blinked and looked up at Fred when she laughed. "That sounded much more comforting in my head."  
    Fred smiled, but the smile quickly disappeared into a grimace. "Um, Wesley," she said uncertainly. She didn't know whether or not she should confess to him or not. She sighed.  
    "What is it?" he asked.  
    "Um...could you...explain to Spike that...well...he's my best friend, but...that doesn't give him the right to kiss me," Fred winced again as the pain lanced through her torn muscles and shoulder blade.  
    Wesley blinked rapidly, removed his glasses from his face, and began to clean them on his shirt. "Did you say Spike...kissed you?"  
    "Yeah. I think he's a little deluded," Fred sighed. "Could you just...talk to him, please? Explain to him what's really going on."  
    "Yes, of course," Wesley nodded. "In fact, I'll do so now. You try to get some sleep."  
    "Thanks, Wesley," Fred watched him leave. She thought for a moment, then yelled, "Wesley!"  
    "What?" Wesley peeked back in.  
    "I feel like I'm abusing you so much, but could you call Charles and tell him I miss him and want him here?" Fred pouted.  
    "It's no problem," Wesley agreed. "I'll call him after I talk with Spike."  
    "Thanks again. I owe you," she promised.  
    "No, you're injured and incapacitated to do such things yourself. I don't mind doing it," he left the curtained cubicle. Suddenly the empty space around Fred seemed much emptier to her.  
  
"Spike," Wesley pushed his glasses up slightly on his nose. "May I have a word with you?" he arched an eyebrow. Spike frowned and shrugged. "Over here."  
    Spike shook his head, "Whassa matter, Wesley? Is there summat wrong with Fred?"  
    "Sort of," Wesley led Spike into the men's room and checked to see if anyone was in the room with them. "You see, Spike, I respect you enough to be blunt with you. Fred is not your girlfriend. You do not get the privilege of kissing her."  
    Spike grabbed Wesley by the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the side of one of the stalls. He scowled at Wesley. "Don't tell me that. She is how I supposedly go' over Buffy. She is my girl. She is _mine_."  
    "That's just _it_, Spike," Wesley answered. "She's not yours."  
    "Whose is she then? _Yours_?" Spike gave him a little shove.  
    "No," he coughed. "Gunn's."  
    Spike shook his head. "No. No, she's mine. She took an arrow for me."  
    "She's your best friend," Wesley sighed.  
    "If she's not my bird, why do I love her?" Spike looked Wesley up and down, analyzing just how long it would take to kill him if he ever let anyone know that he had just admitted he was "in love" with Fred.  
    "It's the love of a friend, Spike. The woman you love is Buffy Summers."  
    Spike shook his head. "Whatever. Sod off, Watcher Boy," he stormed out of the men's room.  
    Wesley took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Now to call Gunn down, before Spike took advantage of Fred again.  
  
It had been about four hours since Fred was first brought to the hospital, and Wesley was still there. He felt a partial responsibility for the girl, not to mention he had filled out the insurance claim forms and all else since he had a copy of the personnel files in his car. He also didn't want to face Faith, after the way he had almost kissed her. He had almost kissed the single woman he hated in the world. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why.  
    Fred had been asleep for the past hour. The nurses abruptly woke her up and called Wesley and Gunn in.  
    "We're moving her to room 309. You can go home, pack some things for her, and bring them here," one of them informed Wesley.  
    "I will. O-or rather, Gunn will. You know what she likes. I'm terrible at that type of thing," Wesley followed the cot into the elevator.  
    Gunn didn't like this. First Spike, and now Wesley was moving in on his territory. Trying to date the woman he had hardly been dating for two months. Well, fine. Gunn would just have to try and make a move on any female that caught Wesley's eye, beside Fred.  
  
"Wesley, where's Spike?" Fred asked. "You didn't tell him to leave, did you? I didn't want him to leave, just not try to kiss me again. I mean, not that he wasn't a good kisser--not that I want to be kissed by him again, and I don't, but he wasn't a bad a kisser or anything--"  
    "I didn't tell him to leave, Fred," Wesley said, fluffing her pillows up. "I made it clear that you were Gunn's girlfriend and not his. That's all."  
    "I wish he would get his memory back," Fred sighed. "I don't like this Spike."  
    "Neither did anyone else," Wesley chuckled.  
    "I want Charles. Where did he go?" she asked.  
    "He went to get some of your things. You'll be staying here until you've had surgery and have had a full day or two of observation to make sure you don't tear anything again," he explained.  
    "When's my surgery?" she wanted to know.  
    "Three days. The swelling needs to go down," he answered.  
    "I want Charles. Where did you say he went?" she asked him, growing distressed.  
    "He'll be here in about fifteen minutes, Fred. He just went home to get a few things for you," he told her patiently.  
    "Oh. I'm sorry if I ask questions twice, Wesley, I can't hardly remember a thing because I'm so drugged up," she sighed. "Charles..."  
    "He'll be here soon, Fred, I promise," Wesley crossed his ankle of his knee and waited for Gunn to arrive, answering any question Fred asked him patiently. She asked again about her surgery, where Gunn went, what happened to her, where Spike went.  
    "Look what I have for my lovely, sweet goddess," Gunn said, walking in, carrying a burrito and a bag of Fred's things.  
    "Oh Charles, it smells wonderful," Fred gave him a dazzling smile. "Come here so I can kiss you without burrito breath."  
    Gunn smiled and kissed her. "I brought some of your stuff. Your bear, a burrito, some of your favorite books and magazines."  
    "You."  
    "What?"  
    "My favorite things you brought includes you."  
    Wesley yawned. "Well, I'll leave you two to yourselves. I'll go back to the hotel, see if I can get some work done, and then I'll come back and visit with you some more. If they ask for me, Gunn, you have my cell phone number."  
    Gunn nodded and watched him walk out of the room.  
  
Faith had been researching one of Wesley's cases, trying to prove herself. However, the only thing she proved was that she wasn't cut out for research. Maybe it was something she had picked up from Buffy, but it found her sleeping on Wesley's desk. It had started out with her resting her head on her arm, slowly reading the titles of the monsters in the book, trying to match them with the description given by the client. She had let her heavy eyelids droop closed and that was that.  
    She jerked awake, hearing someone come into the office. But when she looked around, she was in a dark bedroom, a bed with red satin sheets sat off to the side. White roses and petals lay strewn about the sheets, sultry music drifted around her...  
    "Faith."  
    She quickly looked up at the source of the voice. His face was in the shadows, but he held a wine glass out to her. She blinked and took it. "Come out of the shadows, will ya?"  
    Wesley stepped out of the shadows and sat on the bed. He wore an open red silk shirt and black silk trousers. "Welcome home, Faith."  
    "Wesley..." he gently pulled her down on the sheets. "What's going on?"  
    "I'm through fighting what I feel for you," he told her quietly, straddling her legs and kissing her neck.  
    Faith exhaled slowly. "What do you feel for me, Wes?"  
    "This," he kissed her.  
    Faith moaned.  
  
Wesley watched Faith sleep, one eyebrow raised, and an albeit small smile. That is, he smiled until she moaned his name. That made him sit down and look through one of the case files he had managed to salvage from the Faith Drool.  
    "Wesley..." Faith murmured. Her breath caught in her throat.  
    Wesley raised his eyebrows nearly to his hairline and gulped. He had an idea of what she could be dreaming about, but he hoped he wasn't right, because that would force him to acknowledge how warm and fuzzy his cold and icy hate had grown over the course of the past day.  
    "Mm..." Faith moved her leg under the desk and banged it on the corner. She jerked awake and blinked at Wesley. Her cheeks turned cherry red as she wiped her mouth. "Er...uh...hi Wesley!"  
    "Hello," Wesley replied, nodding slightly. He took the greatest pains not to look at her.  
    "Uh...yeah. I...got a little bit done on one of your cases. How's Fred? She feeling better? She's gonna need surgery, right? When is that?" Faith asked quickly.  
    "Fred's still in pain, yes she needs surgery, and it's in about three days."  
    "Good. I think."  
    "Indeed."  
    "Right."  
    "Very much so."  
    Faith ran out of things to say then and looked down, playing with the pages of the book she had fallen asleep on. "Um, I talk in my sleep. Did you hear me say anything?"  
    Wesley coughed and shook his head guiltily. "N-no."  
    "You liar," Faith accused. "You heard me. Oh god. What did I say? Wait--I don't wanna know."  
    "It was...interesting...I'm trying to figure out why I was in your dream," he raised his eyes to her.  
    "Oh..." her cheeks flamed. "I'm going to go see if Fred's okay," and she ran out of the office.  
    Wesley watched her go. When she almost reached the front door, he put on his resolve face and said, "Faith, wait."  
    Faith paused. "What?"  
    She felt his arms encircle her waist. "Come on. We have to talk," he propelled her towards his office. "In."  
    "Yes sir," she mocked.  
    "Don't do that," Wesley sighed.  
    "What do you want?" Faith leaned back on his desk, studying him, her cheeks no longer feeling the need to be her body's central heating system.  
    Wesley had the incredibly kinky urge to answer that question with "you". However, he took a more tactful approach. "Do you feel it?"  
    "Feel what?" she asked.  
    "This...whatever it is between us. Your dream. My..."  
    "Pants?"  
    Wesley flushed. "Well, actually, yes. Let me present it to you this way. You want me. I want you."  
    "Let's act on it?"  
    "Precisely."  
    Faith flung her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.  
  
Cordelia was minding her own business, when another vision slammed into her. This one was far more powerful, far stronger, and too long compared to the other visions. Even compared to her last vision. This one was just random images though: of Spike attacking Fred in the hospital, Spike reading a letter, Fred kissing Wesley, Fred after the surgery with her monitor flat-lining, Sahjhan becoming solid, Holtz releasing an arrow from a crossbow and landing it directly on Angel's heart, a grave with her name etched into it. Then there was darkness as she collapsed by Connor's crib.  
    Angel had been looking for something and talking light-heartedly with her. She hadn't made a peep during the vision, and the only clue Angel had to her vision was the thud of her hitting the floor. "Cordy?" he frowned. He walked around to the other side of the crib and pressed his lips together, lifting her and setting her on the bed. It was times like this he could use Riley or Harmony or an extra person. "Cordelia?" he tried to shake her a little. She limply lied there. "Dammit...dammit."  
    He picked up the telephone by his bed, jammed the cord into the jack, and dialed Gunn's cell phone number.  
    :Gunn here. Fred, stop.:  
    "Gunn, can you come to the hotel? There's kind of been an emergency."  
    :Again? What happened now?:  
    "Cordelia had another vision."  
    :Of what?:  
    "I have no clue. The vision knocked her out before she could say anything to me. She didn't even scream. So I need you here at the hotel to watch over Connor and her so I can go to the Conduit and demand some answers."  
    :Yeah. Yeah, no problem Angel. I'll be right there. Fred will be fine here.:  
    "Thanks. You're the only one I trust right now with them, and the only one capable of protecting them if anything should happen."  
    :No problem, man. I'll be over in just a minute.:  
    "Right." Angel set the receiver back in the cradle. "Cordy, sweetheart, I promise you. I'll find a way to make this stop," he took her limp hand and kissed the top of it. He felt so helpless in this situation. He knew the visions were killing her. He needed to find a way to get her visions to stop. He would take them himself if he had to. He didn't want her to die.  
    Angel didn't know how long he sat there before Gunn came in and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Go, man. She doesn't look so good."  
    Angel just nodded and left.  
    "All right, Cordy, let's see how long I can stay up before I need to take a nap."  
  
Faith woke in her bed, thinking she was alone at first. Then she rolled over and found Wesley sleeping next to her, both of them quite naked. She smiled, noticing how handsome he was without his glasses and with the mussed up bed head. She found herself falling in love with him. What had started as a spark had roared into a bonfire, and Faith felt secure for the first time in forever snuggled in its warmth. While she had been daydreaming, Wesley had waken and watched her. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled closer to her. "Good...afternoon, love," he murmured.  
    "Oh, I got called 'love' by the Brit who doesn't use slang," Faith smiled. "I feel special now."  
    "I shouldn't wait so long again to do this," he kissed her a couple of times.  
    "I'm thinking any longer than five minutes without kissing you is too much," Faith snuggled.  
    "I agree," he...agreed. "However...I hate to ruin the moment but...you do know that nobody can know about this?"  
    Faith propped herself up on her elbows. "What?"  
    Wesley sat up. "I don't think any of the others should know just yet. I mean, with everything going on. Also, how would they look at me if they found out we were sleeping together?" He rolled out of the bed and put on his pants.  
    Faith glared at him. "That's all you care about? How they're going to look at you after sleeping with me? What happened to Mr. Snuggle Butt?"  
    Wesley turned and raised an eyebrow at her, pulling his shirt on over his head. "Mr. Snuggle Butt?"  
    "Yeah. The one who just called me 'love' and the one who just said he shouldn't wait so long," Faith's glare hardened as she got dressed. "Dammit Wesley--don't tell me you just used me. Because I swear, therapy or no therapy I will stab you with a stake."  
    "I wasn't using you, Faith," he took her hands. "I just think it's too soon to tell anyone. I don't know if I could handle the way they'll look at me when we burst in and announce that we're lovers."  
    "Damn you, Wesley," Faith shook her head in disgust. "I never figured you for the love-'em-and-leave-'em type."  
    "Faith," he said helplessly.  
    However, she had left the room. Wesley followed her. "Faith, listen to me. I enjoyed it just as much as you did, but think about it! I'm at least five years older than you. You're what, twenty-one? Faith, I'm twenty-seven. That's a six year difference."  
    "Angel's 247. Cordelia's twenty-one," Faith thrust that in his face and continued down the stairs.  
    "That's different! Angel's forever frozen at that age."  
    "Six years isn't a lot of difference. Wesley, you could be thirty-seven and I wouldn't care. I'd still feel the same things towards you. I'd still be the same twenty-one-year-old woman sleeping with you."  
    "I'd actually be rather unattractive at thirty-seven."  
    "You don't get it! You don't get it. I'm going to go now. You can stay here and mull over whatever you want to mull over. Just don't follow me."  
    Wesley tried to grab Faith's arm as she left, but she twisted out of his grasp, held his arm behind his back, gave him a shove, and left. Wesley rubbed his forehead and sighed. He should have known sleeping with the Slayer would have been a bad idea. But his hormones had thought otherwise.  
  
Angel stood before the Conduit, in the same circular pit that he had received his permanent soul in. This time though, the Conduit was pissed with him. "Why is it here?" they whispered, throwing him around. "What does it want?"  
    Angel dug his heels into the sand. "_It_ is here because you're killing its mate."  
    "It has no mate," they whispered. He was thrown into the opposite side of the pit.  
    "Yes, it does. It has a mate named Cordelia Chase, who is dying from the--" he was thrown upside down into the wall perpendicular to him, "--visions the PTB gave her. She is human. Dammit, she can't die! I won't let her!"  
    "It is noble," the voices mocked. "It is a fool."  
    Out of sheer anger, the domesticated demon inside of him burst forth. "Damn you! Let her give the visions to me, then! Fix her! Don't...she can't...you can't let her die, not yet!"  
    "It is desperate," they sounded surprised. "It loves her."  
    "Yes, I do. I love her more than my own life."  
    The voices whispered amongst themselves for a moment and stopped playing ping-pong with his body as the birdie. "It has three options."  
    "What? What are they?"  
    "It has three options," they repeated. "It can give up its soul." They paused. "It can allow her to die."  
    Angel frowned, his game face going back to his human visage. "And the other one?"  
    "It can make her a creature of the dark."  
    Angel sat down. Either go back to being Angelus or make Cordelia a soulless creature?  
    "It will share the visions if it decides to make her a creature like itself."  
    "What if I give up my soul for her?" Angel whispered.  
    "It will give her painless visions."  
    "Will they be painful if we share them?" he wanted to know, his voice cracking.  
    "It will share the pain."  
    Angel closed his eyes. Either way, he would have to give up his Cordelia to save her life. He wouldn't be able to keep her. "My entire soul? Or just the part that allows me happiness without turning back into Angelus?"  
    "Its entire soul."  
    The answer was obvious to Angel.  
    "Can I at least tell her goodbye?"  
  
He stood over his bed, watching her sleep as Gunn stood off to the corner with Connor. "Cordelia," he whispered. He bit his lip, lifting her hand. He kissed each of her knuckles before setting her hand back on the bed. "Cordy, I hope you can hear me, because...this is the last you'll see of me until Willow gets here with the Orb of Thesula and the curse. I...I love you more than anything, Cordelia, besides Connor. I love you both the same amount. I love you so much I'm giving up my soul for you to live with painless visions..."  
    "Love you too," Cordelia murmured. One of her eyes was barely open. "Thank you."  
    "To save your life," he kissed her and suddenly found himself in the Conduit's pit. He looked around. "No...that...that wasn't enough time."  
    "It was hoping to make love?" they asked sarcastically.  
    "At least a goodbye kiss," Angel scowled at the voices.  
    "She will die if it does not choose now."  
    "Take my soul. If she gets to live, healed, no visions...that's worth more to me than a permanent soul."  
    Angel collapsed then, a ball of blue light surrounding him. It faded just as quickly as it got there. When he rose, his game face was on full force. "It's been too long."  



	16. Los Angeles II: 15/The Way Things Weren'...

**Title**: Sun and Shadow  
**Section**: Los Angeles II  
**Part**: 15/The Way Things Weren't  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Disclaimer**: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ is property of Joss Whedonvand Mutant Enemy. _Angel the Series_ belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and Mutant Enemy.  
**Distribution**: Eh...gonna be stingy this time and say ask first. You can find my email address on my author profile.  
**Dedication**: The normal people, you know who you are.  
**Rated**: PG-13  
**Notes**: This is my first crossover, folks. Be warned.  
**Timeframe**: Post-Gone for BtVS and post-Dad for Angel.  
  
~*~ The Way Things Weren't ~*~  
  
Spike mulled outside the hospital, after going AWOL on the Angel Investigations crew for a day. He had gone to Caritas and watched people sing until his ears rang, then Lorne escorted him to a private room so he could get some sleep. Feeling refreshed when he woke at nine in the evening, Spike came back to the hospital and decided to lurk. His feeling were hurt that Fred didn't "love" him as anything but a friend, but decided to chalk it up as Wesley being jealous. Still, he didn't exactly feel like sitting through another one of the stodgy ex-Watcher's lectures on friendship.  
    Spike stood in the shadows and watched Faith leave the building. Fred should be alone now. So he darted in the open doors and into the elevator. Spike pulled a bouquet of roses from underneath his arm and stood impatiently, waiting for the elevator doors to open. When they finally did, Spike once again darted out of the open doors and down the hallway to Fred's room. He gently pushed her door open and peered around the side.  
    Fred took her attention from the television and turned it to Spike. She smiled. "Hey, Spike. I was wondering where you went."  
    He returned the smile. "I brought these for you."  
    "Thank you. I'll call the nurse in and ask for a vase when you leave," Fred replied.  
    "Your surgery's tomorrow, innit?" Spike raised his eyebrow.  
    "The day after, actually," she sighed. "The doctor whose specialty is these kinds of things is off tomorrow. I don't know why they won't get another surgeon, but I suppose I can wait."  
    "Want me t' go strong-arm 'em into making the surgeon operate on you tomorrow?" Spike offered with a smirk.  
    Fred rolled her eyes. "No, that's okay Spike."  
    "D'you want me to get you anything? Somethin' to eat or drink or whatnot?" he offered.  
    "No, I'm fine. Charles brought me a burrito earlier for dinner and I am _stuffed_," she sighed.  
    "Well, hey. How 'bout you and I go get some burritos some time? After you're discharged from the hospital," Spike proposed.  
    "She'll be doing no such thing," Wesley said from the doorway. His hair looked fluffed and messy, like he had just rolled out of bed. "Spike, I thought I explained to you that Fred is in love with _Gunn_."  
    "Well I don't ever see the bloke here," Spike growled.  
    "Charles was just here before Faith got here. I have this huge influx of visitors, Spike, honestly," Fred tried to explain.  
    "Who's this 'Charles' sod?" Spike demanded.  
    "Charles Gunn," Wesley sighed. "We call him Gunn, she calls him Charles because they are very much in love, and you were the one who saw it and pushed them together."  
    Spike snorted. "Yeah. Right. Like I would do that."  
    "You did," Fred told him. Spike reached down and caressed her hand, looked up, and got on the receiving end of a powerful blow to the nose. "Wesley!"  
    Spike had toppled over into her bedside table. He growled and looked up at Wesley. "That was a mistake, mate."  
    "Spike! If you touch a hair on his head, you'll never come back here!" Fred cried.  
    Spike looked at her, dazed. "What now, pet?"  
    "Leave, Spike," Fred glared. "Leave and don't come back until you can treat Wesley and everyone else with the respect they deserve." He stood there. "_Go_!"  
    He left.  
    Spike waited for the elevator to rise to the third floor and open for him. He allowed a woman and her two children to walk off before he walked in and pushed the lobby button. He leaned against the corner, thinking about what had just happened. He nearly dismissed it, but saw the look on Fred's face in his mind again and again. Lover or no, no one would have liked to see that expression on anyone's face.  
    He brushed past the people waiting at the elevator opening when he reached the lobby and breezed into the night air. He inhaled, feeling the cold, smog-coated air fill his long dead lungs. He thought back fondly to a night spent in Spain with Drusilla, where she spun joyfully in one of the gardens. Of course, a dead child lay at her feet, and she was singing a tuneless, wordless song.  
    He almost fell over when some careless guy jostled past him. "Hey mate, watch where you're bloody--Angel?"  
    Angel turned to Spike and gave him a half-grin. "Spike, buddy. How are ya?"  
    Spike flinched. "...Pleasant, thank you. Be goin' now--" he tried to walk the other way.  
    Angel caught his arm. "Well, there's no need for that. I just wanna _talk_. I mean, it's been four years since we really _talked_ hasn't it?"  
    "I wouldn't know. As I seem t' recall, everyone keeps tellin' me I can't remember the last four years. So it seems the last I spoke to you was just a couple months ago," Spike spat. "And a couple months isn't long enough."  
    "Aw, Spike, that's mean to say to your grand-sire," Angel smirked.  
    "Well, here's what I say to you: screw you, you bloody prick. Leave me be," Spike growled.  
    _"But I can see, you're unimpressed, so leave me be..." he jumped up on the casket and slid into the funeral procession._  
    Spike shook his head. "Wha' did you say?"  
    "I said I have a proposition for you. You can earn some serious cash," Angel repeated.  
    Cash? Cash was nice. But working with Angel again? "Not bloody likely, mate. I'd rather throw myself into the risin' sun."  
    "Oh, c'mon, Spike. Just hear me out, pal," Angel placed his hand on Spike's shoulder.  
    "Don't _touch_ me," he growled, jerking away.  
    "Fine. You're obviously in no condition to speak with anyone right now."  
    "On your merry way then!"  
    "Exactly. I'll be seeing you around, Spike."  
    Angel stepped off the curb and walked through the parking lot of the hospital, disappearing into the night shadows. Spike sighed and shook his head, heading back to the hotel.  
  
"You know, I've been thinking."  
    Sahjhan, Justine, and Holtz all looked up simultaneously as Angel waltzed into their lair. Sahjhan arched an eyebrow, "About what?"  
    "Well, Angel decided to go into hiding, pansy wuss that he is. So, I have nothing to do. I'm certainly not going to go back and pretend that I'm a 'good guy'. Though, hey, free sex. But anyway, I'm thinking maybe I should just team up with you guys and make your team better."  
    "Take another step and I will dust you," Holtz said evenly, holding a crossbow trained on Angel's heart.  
    "Aw, how sweet," Angel walked towards Holtz, catching the arrow and snapping it in half. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that." He grabbed Holtz by the hair and jerked his head to the side. "Now I'll have had a whole family." He sank his fangs into Holtz's neck and threw him down when he was bone dry. "Ah. Aged blood. Thanks for doing that to him, Sahjhan."  
    Justine stared at Holtz's body, horrified. She looked up at Angel. "Y-you killed him..."  
    "Yeah, that kinda happens when I drink all his blood," Angel replied.  
    Justine tried to punched him, but Angel caught her fist and turned it slightly the wrong way. Her wrist snapped and she stared at him. "You really _are_ an evil bastard," she panted, holding her broken wrist.  
    "Thanks," Angel sat down. "Now go. Tell your 'troops' to disperse. Your leader's dead, Angelus has reinforcements, and Angelus will eat them all if they attempt to attack him."  
    Justine contemplated staking him then and there, but slowly rose and started out. Angelus smacked her where the sun don't shine and ducked her open hand as she attempted to slap him. She hurried out of the room.  
    "Now, Sahjhan. What are we going to do?"  
  
Cordelia watched Spike walk in the hotel doors, alert. "Spike! Have you seen Angel?"  
    "You don't want Angel anymore, love. Trust me," Spike answered.  
    Cordelia's face fell. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. "This came in the mail for you today," she thrust an envelope at him. "It's from Buffy."  
    Spike raised an eyebrow and opened the envelope.  
    _Dear Spike,  
        there's so many things I didn't have the guts to tell you in person, so I decided to write it down on paper and mail it to you. First off, I would like to apologize. I realize now that I was being a major bitch to you, and I wasn't being rational. You're only being you, I realize that now. I'm sorry you had to leave like you did, and I hope your ribs are feeling better.  
        Anyway. Um...I know you want a straightforward answer to your question. Do I love you? Honestly, I don't know. I'm not going to dangle that hope in front of you again. I'll just tell you I don't know if I love you. But that might be teasing you. You see, I don't want to give you false hope, but I don't want to squash your feelings, because I
_ do _have feelings that may develope into love. If you'd stick around long enough.  
        I guess that's not really a lot of things. I'm not the greatest writer of the letters, so I'm going to leave this letter as an apology and half-confession. Be well. Come back to Sunnydale, please. All of us miss you. It's like having a missing leg.  


Buffy

  
    P.S. Dawn sends her love.
_  
    Spike frowned. He didn't remember any of what happened when he left. The last thing he remembered was meeting with Buffy to stop the Angelus problem, and it seemed that she had. Somehow, she had solved the problem and even given him his soul back, or so he heard. Now it looked as if Angelus was back in full swing and trying to recruit him for some evil cause or another. Well, Spike had learned his lesson with Acathla and the Judge. He wouldn't team up with Angelus again, even if Angelus was going to pay him.  
    "So you saw him? I didn't just dream that Angel gave up his soul for me?" Cordelia whispered.  
    "He's Angelus now, love. Or has been. Always will be, I suppose. Unless one you lot ring that redhead in Sunnyhell and ask her to find the curse again," Spike shrugged. Wait. He never remembered seeing Willow cast a spell. How would he know Willow was a witch? "I'm losin' my mind..." he shook his head and sighed.  
    "Spike, you're brilliant!" Cordelia cried, relieved. "I'm going to go call Willow right now and ask her to find the Romanian curse to cast on him."  
    "Glad to help," he murmured. He re-read the letter in his hand and frowned. The picture he had of Buffy in his mind was different than the one coming off of the page. And who the hell was Dawn? Why did she send her love? "Cordelia!" he called. Then he remembered she was probably on the phone. "Never mind love, it's not important."  
    The front door opened and slammed. Faith stalked in and up the stairs. The door opened and slammed in again. Wesley followed her. Yelling ensued that only Spike could hear.  
    "Damn it, Wesley! I don't understand what the hell you want from me! Is it just to get in my pants? 'Cause, hey, so not happening again if that's the case. Do you even like me?" Faith demanded in rapid succession.  
    "Of course I like you, Faith. I recognize that you've changed, and no, I don't like you just to...'get in your pants' as you so elegantly put it," Wesley replied, trying to keep his voice low.  
    "Then why don't you want to tell anyone what we share?!"  
    "Keep your voice down--do you want to wake Connor?"  
    "I don't _care_ who hears us, Wesley! Don't you get that?! I want you to be my, my boyfriend! We're halfway there, Wesley, all we need to do is let someone know and we'll be fine."  
    Spike's ears perked up. This was just like one of the soap operas he used to watch.  
    "Faith..."  
    "You're ashamed of me. You're ashamed to be with me. You don't want a girlfriend."  
    "Faith, it's not like that. Truly. I'm just...honestly, I'm not ready to announce this to anyone. Angel hasn't been here for a day or so, Cordelia's a mess, Riley and Harmony have betrayed us, Spike has amnesia, Fred's in the hospital--it's too much to dump this on them."  
    "Oh...well, I guess I see that side of it. But don't you think they'd all be happy for us? It'd cheer them up to hear some happy news."  
    Wesley didn't say anything.  
    "Well don't just stand there, you pillock," Spike muttered. "Say somethin'. Say somethin' suave, like, 'sure, but don't you think it would make the others jealous?'."  
    "I don't think I'm ready to tell this to anyone yet, Faith. Understand?"  
    "Smooth move," Spike rolled his eyes.  
    "You really are ashamed of being with me."  
    Spike went back to minding his own business, hearing them start to come down the stairs. Cordelia came out of Wesley's office, a slight smile on her face. "Guess what, Spike!"  
    "What would tha' be?" he looked up at her.  
    "Willow said she knows exactly where the spell is--she just needs us to find an Orb of Thesula for her," Cordelia sighed in relief. "I'll bet Wesley knows where to get one of those. Do you know where he is?"  
    "I believe he's upstairs havin' an argument with the Slayer girl," Spike re-read the letter for the fourth time. "Love, who's Dawn?"  
    Cordelia blinked. "Buffy's little sister. Why?"  
    "I don't remember the Slay--I mean, Buffy havin' a kid sis."  
    _"I feel safe with you," Dawn said, smiling sweetly.  
    Spike choked. "Don't say that!"
_  
    He rubbed his temples. "Actually, I think I may've just remembered a little of her...or maybe I'm gettin' someone else's life. I don't ever think I'd ever get up and start singin' a bloody song. Less I was at tha' Caritas place."  
    Cordelia blinked. "...Right. Do you know where Wesley is? Oh. Yeah. You said he's arguing with Faith...but Connor's not crying and I don't hear them."  
    Spike listened carefully. "Sounds like they're havin' a make-out session, love."  
    Cordelia burst out laughing. "Wesley? And _Faith_? Making out? Oh, that's funny. Um, yeah. Okay. If Wesley comes down here, tell him to find an Orb of Thesula, because I'm going to go up and check on Connor and feed him."  
    Spike nodded, "I will."  
    "Thanks," Cordelia walked up the stairs opposite of Faith's room and went into Angel's former room. Spike would think that no one would leave that child alone after he got kidnapped, but didn't feel it his place to say anything. Not that that stopped him before. Absently, he wondered when he had become such a poof.  
    Faith slid down the banister, leaving Wesley to eat her dust at the top of the stairs. "Spike, I'm gonna ask you to do a huge favor for me."  
    "What would that be?" Spike arched an eyebrow.  
    "I need you to sleep with me so I can get back at Wesley."  
    Spike shrugged. "Okay."  
    "Okay."  
    "Lemme write somethin' down real quick."  
    Spike found a tablet of paper and a pen and quickly scribbled down, "_Wesley--Cordy wants you to get an Orb of Thesula_" and followed Faith up the stairs.  
  
Cordelia opened the door to Angel's former room, carrying a bottle with her. "Okay, Connor," she said in baby talk, facing the door as she shut it. She turned to go to the cradle to pick him up to find Angel already holding him. "Oh...Angel. Hello," she said coldly. "Or should I call you Angelus?"  
    "You catch on quick," Angel commented. "So this is Angel's son?"  
    "He's mine," Cordelia growled.  
    "That's not how he remembers it. He _wishes_ this little kid was yours, but it's Darla's," Angel started to set Connor back in the crib, thought better of it, and handed him to Cordelia.  
    Cordelia took the baby protectively and studied Angel. "Are you sure you're Angelus?"  
    "As sure as I have ten fingers and ten toes," Angel nodded. "He won't let me take the kid though, or hurt you. He disgusts me. Have I told that to you? It's been a while since I've seen you, but I think I should take this oppurtunity to tell you that with how much Angel loves you it _really_ disgusts me."  
    "So why are you here? Why are you behind enemy lines? Why are you with the good guy?" Cordelia narrowed her eyes.  
    "There are no good guys. Everyone's bad at the core--the good guys are just the ones who win more often," Angel replied.  
    "Is that you talking or Angel?" she wanted to know.  
    "Both of us, sweetheart," he reached out to touch her face but she jerked back. "Aw. You don't wanna be touched by your precious Angel?"  
    Through gritted teeth, Cordelia answered, "You're not Angel. You may have his body, but you're not him."  
    "Do you know what he did? It's really very sickening. You were dying from those pesky visions that dance in your head, and so he went to the Conduit and--here's the kicker--chose the option to let them take his soul rather than make you his vampiric mate for all eternity," Angel told her.  
    "He was saving my life. He was trying to make it so that I wouldn't have to live the way he does," Cordelia defended Angelus's alter-ego.  
    "You don't think it's sickening? Of course not, you're his 'mate'. He thinks of you as his mate, you know that? Because he heard the Conduit refer to you as his 'mate'."  
    "Mate friend or mate soulmate?"  
    "Gee, Cordelia, you still aren't the brightest bulb in the box, are you? What does Angel have that no other vampire has?"  
    "You're very rude."  
    "I know. It's fun."  
    "You're sick. Get out of here. Please."  
    "Gladly. If I see another second of your face while hearing lover boy whine at me I think I'm going to drive myself crazy."  
    "Oh look, you're already there."  
    "Ouch. That was painful." Angelus leapt out of the window as Cordelia shut it. She sighed and held Connor's bottle to his mouth.  
  
Wesley stepped inside the Pagan store, glancing around. The obvious pace to get an Orb of Thesula would be Sunnydale, but Wesley didn't have the time nor patience to go to Sunnydale. His concentration had been thrown off by the way Faith had acted around him, and then by the way she had disappeared, presumably with Spike. Angel Investigations' once plentiful team was deteriorating. Angel had gone missing, Spike had lost all memory of anything that had happened in the past four years, Fred needed surgery, he and Faith had slept together, Riley and Harmony decided they didn't want to participate in the investigations anymore, and Gunn had gone Secretive Guy on them.  
    "May I help you?" the store clerk asked. "You know we're closin' in a few minutes."  
    "Yes, I'm aware," Wesley nodded. "However...do you have an Orb of Thesula?"  
    "Yeah, they're all over there," the store clerk pointed to a wrack with polished boxes containing the Orbs. Wesley retrieved one. "That'll be thirty-two ninety-eight."  
    Wesley sighed and handed over thirty-three dollars, leaving with his Orb. Wesley ran down the uses of the Orb of Thesula in his head, vaguely remembering. It...what did they do...  
    "Oh hell," he muttered. "Cordelia, you better not be trying to do something dangerous."  



End file.
